In Loco Parentis
by amitai
Summary: When Jack has to go back to Chicago to be with her parents, MI6, as always, get involved with Alex's life, and arrange a guardian for him to stay with. Alex plus unknown guardian equals... oh dear.
1. Chapter 1

New idea, just popped into my head. I don't know if it's cliche or not - but I guess I'll find out. Go on, tell me what you think - I'm perfectly used to dealing with bad reviews, but I'd like to know, if you don't mind. Please tell me whether you enjoy it or not!

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never were mine. Never will be mine. Or not without a fantastic sum of money my parents won't give me.

* * *

"I'm only going to be gone for a couple of weeks." Jack said, looking at Alex worriedly over the table. "I'll ring you to make sure that everything's alright." She paused, then said, would-be-casually, "Are you sure everything's going to be alright with this guardian that MI6 are providing?"

Alex really, _really_ wanted to say no. But Jack had to go and see her parents again, and he did want her to have a good time while she was there, so he kept quiet about it, smiled off-handedly, and said, "Yeah, sure. I mean, it's in their best interest to make sure that I'm OK, isn't it?"

Jack's lips pursed at the mention of his "job". "I suppose so." She said, doubtfully, pausing as she tidied up the kitchen, in readiness for it to be empty for the next couple of weeks. "So, have you packed everything you're going to need for the next fortnight? Books, clothes, washing things?"

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, it's done." He nodded. "Promise."

She looked at him, head on one side, bright red hair falling over one shoulder, and mismatched slipper jammed onto her feet, as disorganised as ever, but still caring about him. "Good. You can ring me any time, OK, Alex? Any time you like. And if this guardian person puts one toe out of line, I want you to go to the highest authority you can, without involving MI6, have you got me?"

"Yes, Jack." He nodded, sighing.

* * *

Jack left the next morning by bus, for Gatwick Airport, and then onto New York. Alex had been told that his temporary "guardian" would pick him up after school that day, so he'd walked to school, reasoning that he could always take the tube to his house, and pick up his bike.

He was waiting outside the school gates for nearly an hour and a half by the time a rather battered old Ford drew up, and a disgruntled voice floated out the window.

"You the kid who's had a guardian arranged for him for this fortnight?"

Alex peered into the car. "Yes."

"Right, get in."

"Who're you?"

"If you get in, you'll find out."

Shrugging away his misgivings, he opened the door, slung his backpack onto the backseat, and slid in. After he'd done up his seat-belt, he turned to look at the drivers profile.

He was met by a thin, defined profile, with floppy blond hair, and a mouth which appeared to be permanently smiling. This was a tall, thin someone, as unlike an MI6 operative as Alex had ever seen – except maybe Smithers. This was also a very much unknown someone.

"I don't know you." The boy said, flatly

"I know you don't."

"I was told that I'd know the person who I was staying with." Alex said, softly. "Am I going to have to get out, or are you going to tell me why I don't know you?"

"Look, OK, I'm just doing a favour for a friend." Blue eyes slid towards him. "And no, I don't know the name you know him by, but if it'll help you any, I call him James."

"James?"

"James." He nodded. "If it's any comfort, he doesn't know who you are, either."

"He doesn't?"

"No."

"Oh." Alex digested this. "So – why did MI6 lie about this?"

"Who said anything about MI6?" the man driving looked confused. "James said he as just doing a favour for Child Services."

Alex gave a wry grin. "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way." He said, wryly. "MI6 is just what I call it to my school friends – or rather, they say I'm working for MI6. I'm not often at school."

"James is pretty strict." The driver said, warningly. "He won't tolerate cutting school."

"It's because orphanages don't like me." Alex lied. "I get shifted around a lot."

"He won't let you be a trouble maker." The driver warned, again.

"He sounds like a laugh riot." Alex shrugged.

The man driving smiled. "He's got his heart in the right place. You've just gotta cut him some slack, too. I was surprised when he told me about this – he's not often here for long enough to keep his plants alive, let alone a kid. He's worried about this."

_Oh, yeah. Definitely an MI6 operative_. Alex thought, wryly. _But who do I know at MI6_?

"I'm Michael Webb, by the way. You can call me if he disappears at any point."

"Thanks." Alex said, and shut up, looking out the window for the rest of the drive.

* * *

They pulled into a nice area, somewhere not far away from Brooklands, in a fairly central area of London. "James' got a flat up there. I'll take you up – I've got a key, so if he's not in, we'll go in and wait, OK, kid?"

"Sure." Alex nodded. He liked Michael. He might call him 'kid', but he treated him more like an adult than anyone at MI6 – including, Alex was willing to bet, whoever had been pegged to look after him.

Michael led him up to a third floor flat in the large, old house, and knocked. Alex read the brass plate next to the door. _James san Luca_. Who the hell was that?

"Coming, hold on!" floated out to them, a deep, vaguely familiar man's voice.

The man who opened the door was average height, muscular, and moving with a definite limp. He had a black eye, and his clothes were militaristic and torn.

"Jesus, Jaime," Alex was surprised to hear Michael, obviously English, calling his friend by the Spanish derivative of the name, almost as much as he was surprised to hear the depth of the resignation in his voice. He sounded just like Jack, whenever Alex got back from a particularly nasty mission. "Who set on you this time? More 'thugs', right?"

"Right." 'Jaime' said, pleasantly, and Alex knew that he was lying. Why was that voice so familiar, though? Looking up at his face again (all he had noticed the first time around was that it was bruised – he had been staring at the army (or SAS) boots since then), he recognised him.

"Wolf?" he said, shocked.

At the same time, Wolf looked at, and recognised, him. "Cub?"

"I take it you've met." Michael said, wryly.

"Er, yeah." Wolf ran a hand over his head, and short hair. "In a manner of speaking. We're not exactly social buddies."

"I don't think Wolf is 'social' anything." Alex said, sourly.

"Watch your mouth, kid." Wolf snapped.

"Hey, ease up there, Jaime." Michael intervened. "Alex isn't all that bad. He's just as shocked as you are. He didn't think he was going to know who he was going to, he'd just relieved that he knows you. It's making you both react badly."

"I doubt very much that it's out of relief." Wolf muttered, but let it pass. "OK, come on in, kid. I can't have you standing out here all week, someone might see." He glanced up at Michael. "Thanks for this Mikey." He said, and gave him a strained smile, holding out a hand which Michael took with easy familiarity. "I'll call you sometime soon. Maybe we could go out for a drink."

"Sure – just as soon as Alex has gone back to an orphanage." Michael said, pointedly. "You can't drink while he's around."

"Orphanage?" for a brief second, Wolf looked shocked. It was a testament to what a great operative he was that he recovered himself so quickly. "Oh yeah. The orphanage. Which one was it again, Alex? St. Cross?"

"I've moved again." Alex said, ironically. "It's the Orphanage of the Bleeding Heart now."

Wolf's lips twitched.

"Morbid names they think up for these places nowadays." He said, quietly. "Mike, I'll see you around. Maybe you could come over this Saturday, or something? Seeing as you and Alex seem to have hit it off so well."

"Yeah, sure." Michael put a brief hand on Alex's shoulder. "He's a good kid. See you around, both of you."

Alex watched the tall, slim young man go off down the stairs, picked his bag up, and turned to look at Wolf.

"Come on in."

* * *

Please tell me?

I've written the rest of it, so if I get enough reviews, I may update quicker - shall we say five, ten, or fifteen?

Hmmm...

OK, well, thanks anyway! Lol, etta xxxx


	2. Chapter 2

Ahah! I have replaced this chapter; the content is exactly the same, except for the Spanish. Because, it was frankly embarrassing having such apalling Spanish on it. Hopefully, this is a bit better, and a little less stilted and forced.

It's probably not. But I get points for trying. (grin)

DISCLAIMER: As of this moment, not mine. But, I'm getting better at negotiating, and at some point, I shall wrest those bookrights from Mr. Horowitz!!

Who laughed? WHO WAS LAUGHING?!!

* * *

Wolf showed Alex to his room, and said, awkwardly, "Er… I'm doing sandwiches in a couple of hours, if you want anything. If you want a drink, or something, help yourself – I think there's something in the fridge. Maybe. I'm not really sure… er… if there isn't, the tap-water should be drinkable. At least, I mean – I drink it, and I don't get sick from it, so it must be at least a little drinkable. If it's too warm, there's ice in the freezer."

"You're sure about that?"

"Oh, yeah." Wolf said, firmly. "I always keep ice around. I need it for bruises and stuff."

"So you're clumsy?" Alex suggested, off-handedly and slightly sarcastically.

"If you want to call it that." Wolf shrugged. He paused. "Er… the bathrooms just down there. Hang on a second." He disappeared from the doorway, and came back holding a key ring with three keys on it. "I got these made for you. Um… this one unlocks the main front door, and these two are for my door. There's a number lock as well, code eight-six-four-oh."

"Eight-six-four-oh." Alex repeated obediently. "OK."

"I might not be here when you wake up. I have to get into work pretty early tomorrow, so, er… Look, I might not be here very often, OK? I'm sure you can manage things. I'll leave some money for you to get stuff you need in the drawer by the door, but you're going to have to leave receipts and stuff for me. I need to know where it's going."

"Sure." Alex was extremely capable of managing money – he never got an allowance, he had a Saturday job. Jack generally never though to buy him new clothes, so the money from his Saturday job when on that, most of the time. On the rare occasions that he did have money to spare, he put it in a bank account for later use, and he had managed to amass enough money that he wouldn't need to scrounge off Wolf at all. Unless it was for food, and other things for the man's flat. Wolf sounded like he didn't have much of a clue when it came to 'house-keeping'. Neither, on the other hand, had Jack to begin with, and Alex had taught himself a lot of what to do before Jack cottoned on. Alex was practical like that.

"Another thing…" Wolf added, turning back. "You'd better call me James, while you're staying with me. People might think it's a bit odd if you call me 'Wolf' all the time, and I know that neither of us want to blow our cover."

"Sure. Are you sure you don't want me to call you 'Jaime'?" he asked, casually.

"Whatever." Wolf said, equally casual. "Jaime's good for me."

"¿_Quieres hablar español?" _Alex asked, testing the waters, gently.

_"No me importa."_ Wolf returned, completely unphased. _"Si quieres."_

_"_¿_Eres español?"_

_"Mi padre es español, mi madre es inglesa." _He told him, off-handed. "¿_Porque?"_

_"Estaba curioso." _Alex shrugged, and turned away.

"You've got good Spanish, Cub. Alex." Wolf – or James – complimented him. "Better than I would have expected. Almost no accent."

"Like your English."

"Yeah, I guess. How d'you get so good?"

"My uncle trained me to be a spy from the age of three." Alex told him, with only a faint trace of bitterness. "He made sure I spoke Spanish, French and German like I spoke English. We even lived there for a while – in three different countries, for three years. Till I was six. We used to go on holiday to all of them, to make sure I never forgot any of it – and now I can't forget any

* * *

of it, because my life might depend on being able to speak the language."

"Fair enough." James shrugged. "I'm sure you've got homework to do, and you probably want to, um… unpack, and stuff. I'll leave you to it – um… I'll call when I'm doing sandwiches."

"Yeah. Thanks."

The room Alex had been given was nice – the bed covers were blue, as were the curtains on the large windows. The floor was panelled, and there was a dark blue rag-rug on the floor; under the windows, in one corner, was a solid-looking pine desk, and a chair. A half-empty bookshelf stood next to it. Alex, thinking of his school books, smiled.

An empty, pine wardrobe stood next to an empty, pine chest of drawers; Alex's bag and school back-pack sat on top of it. Alex knew his bag was heavy – it had all his school books in it, and everything he'd need for a fortnight – but James had take it from him like it weighed nothing.

As for the rest of the room, however, it was a blank. The walls were plain whitewash, there were no photos anywhere in it, no ornaments, nothing. It was one of the sparest spare rooms Alex had ever seen. Apparently, Wolf – no, _James_ – didn't entertain overly much.

Alex settled down to unpacking. He put his spare school things in the cupboard – he had a tendency to miss so much school, and he was in so many teachers' bad books, that he didn't dare turn up to school looking scruffy, like so many other kids did. His other things, home clothes, etcetera, went into the chest of drawers. He put his school books on the half-empty bookcase, and, finally, he put his picture of his parents on the desk. He almost hadn't brought it – but seeing how empty the room was, he was glad he had.

That done, he got changed, hanging the school jacket over the back of the desk-chair, along with his trousers; his shirt, he put in the corner he had designated the 'to-be-washed' corner.

He settled down to his homework.

* * *

An hour and a bit later, he was disturbed by the sound of swearing coming from the kitchen. Curious, he followed the sound.

James was stood in the kitchen, swearing loudly, and holding his hand, which was bleeding profusely – all over a piece of bread, Alex noted. The bloodstained bread made him feel slightly ill, so he grabbed a piece of kitchen paper, and gave it the man, then deposited the bread in the bin.

"What'd you do?" he asked the man, while hunting for plasters and anti-septic.

"Cut myself." James said, shortly.

"I got that." Alex returned, sarcastically.

"I was trying to find a normal knife, but I think they're all in the dishwasher, so I just grabbed the nearest knife in the drawer. I dropped it in the butter by mistake, and when I picked it up, it was slippery, and I dropped it." He reeled off, quickly. "alright?"

"You couldn't have just got a knife out the dishwasher?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow at him, while pouring antiseptic onto a tissue. When James didn't answer, he just sighed, and handed him the tissue and the plasters, watching as the man washed, cleaned, and bandaged the cut, muttering complaints the whole time about how bad he was at first aid.

Finally, he was finished, and he looked up. "It's a good point." Wolf – James, Alex reminded himself, for what felt like the hundredth time – admitted, "About the knife, I mean." He paused, then added, hesitantly. "I don't suppose you're any good at making sandwiches, are you?"

Alex soon realised that Wolf/James had next to nothing in his fridge; when pressed, the man said, vaguely, that he was planning on going and getting something soon. Alex held out very little hope of this; James looked like the sort of man who would keep everything together in the field, but had no idea of how to look after himself in his own home.

Looking around the flat, Alex saw that it looked practically unlived in – through the door to the living room, he could see that the sofa was in mint condition, but he'd was willing to bet that there was more dust in the cushions than stuffing. The carpet looked gritty and unclean; the tiled floors were grey with dust. The kitchen counters weren't much better – in fact, most of it wasn't much better.

"D'you know why MI6 asked you to take me in?" he asked the man, off-handedly.

"No." James shrugged. "I've no idea. They don't tell me why, they just tell me to do it. I guess I'm the only person they know who can do it, and who doesn't have any other obligations."

"Apart from your work?"

"I'm in a desk job at the moment." He said, grumpily.

"Then why do you need to be gone so early in the morning?"

"It's an important desk job, Cub." Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine. I've got PT. For my leg."

"Get shot?"

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with a fourteen year old." James said, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Yes, because I got shot. In my thigh, by an Al-Qaeda supporter, in Iraq."

"You've been in Iraq?"

"Pretty much every member of the SAS have been in Iraq, Alex, there's a war going on there."

"Really?" Alex said- mock-ingenuously. "I didn't know!"

"Don't screw me around, Cub." James growled. "I'm not in the mood."

"So they deployed you back to England for how long?" Alex asked, changing the subject, and taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Until my leg heals." The man grimaced. "Fully heals, apparently. As in, no trouble, ever again. And if it ever gives me any trouble, I'm out of the SAS."

"Do you ever do any spying?"

"No." he told him, shortly. "Never. SAS, not spying. I leave that to people like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"People who don't reach for their grenade launchers every time someone makes an unexpected move, what did you think it meant?"

"I dunno." Alex said, backing down swiftly. Wolf looked in no mood to be trifled with.

"Okay. Look, Cub, I'm no good at the parenting shit, or whatever it is that I'm supposed to do." Wolf said, not quite meeting his eye. "I don't know what to do. If you want a nanny, tell them you don't want to stay with me, OK? I'm not going to give you a curfew, I'm not going to deal with any problems at your school, and I'm not going to let you have any friends over, got it? I'm not a relation of yours, I'm not your step-father, I'm the guy you stay with, from Child Services. I don't help you with your homework. I don't comfort you after your nightmares. If you're sick, I give you aspirin, I don't stay by your bed with a cold flannel and a sick bowl. I get the doctor in, or take you to hospital. I pay the bills, and sign my name on any vital forms. Apart from that, we lead separate lives, OK?"

"Got it." Alex muttered. "Are you done with your plate? Cos I'm going to wash up."

"I'll do it." Wolf told him, looking a little uncomfortable.

"I ate too." Alex shrugged. "And I've done my homework, so I've got nothing else to do. I might go over to my house, and grab some things to do from there tomorrow, is that OK?"

"Like I said, Cub." Wolf stood up, "Separate lives." He went into the living room, and Alex heard the blare of the television, as he gave the plates a quick rinse, and shoved them back into the cupboards.

* * *

The next morning, Wolf had indeed gone by the time Alex woke – Alex could tell, because he'd left a notice telling him to lock up, and there was an empty bowl in the sink, which had apparently once held cereal. The cereal box was empty, as was the milk bottle, and the only things left in the fridge was a loaf of rather stale bread, some mouldy butter, and a jar of marmalade.

Sighing, Alex through away the butter, and slathered a piece of bread with the marmalade – after scraping the mould off the top of that, too. It wouldn't take him long to get to school, taking the tube, and he'd woken up early, due to being in a strange bed, so he sat down, with his bread and marmalade, and made a shopping list.

He was willing to bet that Wolf would be gone until late that night, so he'd have chance to shop straight after school. He looked round the flat, and added 'cleaning stuff' to the list.

"I didn't see you cycle to school today, Alex." Tom said, sliding into the seat next to him. "You know I normally pass you on the bus. And no one was home when I called after school yesterday, and you walked to school yesterday too, and you didn't walk home again, so where were you yesterday? Doing something else for MI…"

Alex elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Shut up, Tom." He whispered, harshly. "You know you're not supposed to talk about it."

"Gees, sorry!" Tom said, indignantly, rubbing his ribs. "Sue me for breathing! Where were you yesterday, then?"

"Jack has to go and see her parents for a couple of weeks." Alex said, shortly. "I'm staying with someone from Child Services till she gets back."

"You're staying with a _care worker_?!" Tom said, surprised. "You could have come and stayed with me…" he paused, then added, reluctantly. "Well, actually no, you probably couldn't, seeing as my house is more of a war zone than anywhere you've ever been – but you could have asked me to come with you. I'd like the break. So is your Care worker nice? Man or woman?"

"Man. And no, he's not." He leant towards his friend. "Don't tell anyone. He's a member of that SAS."

"Oh. So not your average cuddly sort of person, then."

Alex gave him a wan smile, thinking of Wolf's speech to him yesterday, and the dirty, unlived-in, unwelcoming flat which was home for the next fortnight.

"No. Not exactly."

* * *

Right. Well, there you go. The Spanish means: 'Do want to speak Spanish?" "I don't mind. Do you want to?" "Are you Spanish?" "My father was Spanish, my mother was English. Why?" "I was curious."

Anyway - thank you to all of my reviewers! I hope you're enjoying it so far.

Lol, ami. xxx


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so tempted to say thatunless I get enough reviews I won't update this - or better yet, I won't update _'An Object Lesson'_, but bitter experience has taught me that that generally doesn't work, so I might not.

Mind you, I said MIGHT. I might withold chapters, just to be cruel!

DISCLAIMER: I barely had the money to buy the book, let alone the rights to it. In other words, hell no, not mine.

* * *

After school, Alex walked back to his house in Chelsea, let himself in, and picked up some stuff from his room, that he thought he'd miss. He didn't take much – his iPod, some books and some History notes he'd left behind, but was almost undoubtedly going to need for his coursework.

He shoved them into his backpack, and cycled back to Wolf's flat – he'd worked out the route before. Brooklands was near enough to the street where Wolf lived to make having his bike, rather than taking the tube; and in any case, he needed to keep as fit as he could.

Alex had been right to predict that Wolf wouldn't be back, when he got in at about four fifteen. Shrugging, Alex took some money out of the drawer Wolf had pointed out earlier, and headed down to the Sainsbury's he'd passed on his way here.

He bought everything Wolf was missing in his fridge – bread, butter, milk – but focussed on frozen dinners, which he could take out in the morning before he went to school, and put in the microwave for both of them. As he wasn't sure when Wolf would eat (though Alex got the feeling that Wolf wasn't particularly picky – he just ate because he had to), he just got the cheapest things he could find. He didn't want the man complaining that Alex was too expensive. Even thought Wolf had made his dislike of Alex abundantly clear, Alex knew him, and trusted him, to a certain extent, and he didn't want to give the man a reason to chuck him out.

He bought two large boxes of cereal, and long life milk, three large blocks of butter, two of which he could freeze, and several loaves of bread, which could also be frozen. After that, came some cheap sandwich fillers, some fruit, and some fruit juice. He avoided fizzy drinks, as being over-expensive and unnecessary, then made his way over to the cleaning section.

Alex knew that Wolf had nothing in his flat to clean with, barring some rather old and pathetic looking wash-cloths, for cleaning the dishes, so he just bought everything – the cheapest things were Sainsbury's own make, so one of everything went in: wood polish, glass cleaner, some dusters, Hoover bags (Alex had checked the make of Hoover beforehand), Brasso, washing up liquid, dishwasher tablets – everything. Even down to toilet and shower cleaner.

He managed to buy everything for just under seventy pounds, which wasn't bad, considering the amount of stuff he'd bought. Restocking enough food for two people was expensive, and the cleaning products weren't overly cheap, either – and Alex had a whale of a time carrying it all back.

* * *

It was five o'clock by the time Alex got back to the flat. His hands had huge red lines in them from where the carrier bags had dug into them, and he had to shake them out to get the blood flowing again.

He put the food and the cleaning products away, but left out two of the frozen dinners to defrost, then sat down to do his homework. The cleaning could wait until tomorrow.

Alex finished his homework by six thirty, and, with nothing else to do, sat at his desk and daydreamed.

He remembered vividly being eight years old – it was before Jack had come to live with them as housekeeper – and Ian Rider not coming to pick him up from school. That was alright, Ian had explained to him what to do, and he gave him a new weekly tube ticket at the beginning of every week, but he had been worried when the man hadn't come home that night, hadn't been there to take him to school in the morning.

But then, Ian had done things like this sometimes, just as a test. When they'd been living in Barcelona, he'd made Alex do all the talking for a week, to get his Spanish perfect. When they'd been in Frankfurt, he'd dropped Alex off with some friends of his, and hadn't come back for a fortnight, just to make sure that Alex could survive on his own. Alex wasn't sure whether this was another of his uncle's tests, but, just in case it was, he wasn't going to fail it.

The real problem was, there was no food in the house. His uncle had taught him the basic premise of cooking when he was tiny, had had Alex help him with it from the moment the boy was old enough, but Alex wasn't entirely sure what to do without food. When one of the teachers at Brooklands had asked where his packed lunch was, he'd scuffed his foot against the floor, and muttered that he'd forgotten it.

By lunchtime the next day, however, Alex was starting to get desperate. He hadn't eaten for forty-eight hours, and he was _starving_ – and starting to realise, too, that his uncle probably wasn't coming back any time soon.

He knew his uncle left money in the house for him, in case of emergency, but he wasn't really sure whether this counted as an emergency or not.

By the time he got home, however, Alex was so hungry, he threw caution to the winds, and decided that it was. Almost shyly, he had got the money from the drawer, and counted out twenty pounds, which, to his eight year old mind, seemed like an awful lot of money.

He had only bought basic things, bread and butter, fruit and some bottled water, nothing extravagant – and he had been so small, the woman on the till had had to crane over it to see him. By the time Ian Rider reappeared a week later, Alex was getting almost blasé about the shopping trips, and he had definitely learnt some lessons about self-sufficiency which he would never forget, but it had been his uncle's words on seeing him which left to most lasting impression.

"Oh god, Alex. I forgot about you."

Alex had swallowed his shock and disappointment, and said, quietly, "Would you like a sandwich?"

Ian had often disappeared without warning after that, and Alex had learnt to get used to it. He had come to terms with the fact that his uncle's job meant rather more to the man than he, Alex, did. And he had learnt to be self-sufficient. Until Jack arrived, when Alex was eleven, the boy had been looking after the house almost single-handedly, and it had been a bit of a shock to find that cleaning and shopping and cooking weren't his job anymore.

He had never mentioned it to Jack; he'd pretended (as he suspected his uncle did) that someone had come in every day to shop and cook and clean for them. Alex knew, now, that he could look after himself, and it gave him that extra courage sometimes – but, occasionally, when he thought about it, it was with the painful twinge of an abandoned eight-year-old, buried at the back of his mind.

* * *

By eight, Alex had accepted that James wasn't going to be home for a while yet, and he cooked one of the frozen dinners for himself, and left instructions for his 'guardian' as to what to do with the other. He rang Jack, briefly, to tell her that everything was OK – he lied, and said that his guardian was busy, and couldn't talk to her. When pressed, he told her that James was 'cooking', and, when she replied, he could hear her smile in her voice.

"He sounds like he's really taking care of you."

Alex looked round the empty flat, and swallowed, "Yeah. He's doing a really good job." He lied, quietly. He didn't want Jack to worry about him.

Alex went to bed at ten, and lay awake, until, an hour later, he heard the door snap shut, and Wolf walk in. He heard a surprised exclamation, and then, a few minutes later, the 'ping!' of a microwave door shutting. Footsteps came towards his door – he rolled over, and took long, steady, slow breaths. When the light fell onto his bed, he heard the man sigh, and walk away. Then he turned his iPod on, and went to sleep to the comforting sound of familiar music.

* * *

Wolf had already left, again, when Alex woke the next morning. It was Friday, Alex knew, and he wondered whether he should look forward to the weekend – or dread it.

"So…" Tom said, falling into step beside Alex as they made their way to Maths. "How's your _care worker_?"

"Good, thanks." Alex said, shrugging. "How are your parents?"

"Probably just as good as your care worker." Tom said, bitterly. "Fighting left, right and centre. My dad threw a mug at me last night. My mum told him not to break the crockery." He looked at Alex, sombrely. "I tell you, I'll be glad when this divorce is over and done with. But until it is, I may go and live with my brother in Italy."

Alex gave him a sympathetic, if awkward, pat on the shoulder. He would have liked to be able to offload his own home difficulties as easily as Tom did – hell, he would have liked to be able to confide _anything_ as easily as Tom did – but he had taught himself to keep quiet for as long as he could remember, and he knew that even if he opened his mouth to tell him, the words would stick in his throat.

* * *

Alex was back at the flat at four that afternoon, having not had to make a detour into Chelsea; remembering that Wolf hadn't been home for hours the night before, and that he probably wouldn't be home till even later tonight, seeing as it was a Friday night, he decided that he had enough time to clean the flat before he got home.

He supposed that he could have gone to the cinema with a friend (and, despite the fact that he was rarely ever there, Alex did have friends at school other than Tom), or done something else that was rather more normal, but he was going to have to live in this flat for the next two weeks, and he would prefer it not to be quite so filthy.

Alex started in the bathroom, where the white enamel was almost black with dirt, except where the water hit it. It took some concentrated scrubbing to get the dirt out of the bath, as it did with the shower – especially the shower, in fact, seeing as it had walls which needed to be cleaned as well. He took out all the bath mats for washing, as they were also dark with dust, then scrubbed out the toilet, and stored the sink and toilet cleaners under the sink. He wiped the other surfaces down with a cloth, hoovered the floor, and gave in a wipe with the mop.

Standing back, he couldn't help but be rather proud of himself. Saving the world, Alex reflected, as he moved onto the next area to clean (the kitchen) brought a certain amount of pride. Cleaning something brought a sense of accomplishment.

He went over the rest of the flat in a couple of hours, though he avoided Wolf's room like the plague. No way was he going in there – Wolf would probably eat him if he even tried.

By the time he'd finished, the flat looked completely different, and Alex felt that same sense of accomplishment, even if it was muted by tiredness.

It was a quarter to eleven, Alex noted wearily, as he ate the frozen dinner he had taken out to defrost that morning. Wolf had probably gone out somewhere, and Alex couldn't blame him, though it was a little weird, the fact that they were living under the same roof, but never saw each other.

He had a shower, hung his towel neatly over the towel rail, and went t bed. He didn't hear James come in, which turned out to be a big problem the next morning.

* * *

It was Saturday, so Alex hadn't bothered to switch the alarm on – his boss had allowed him to skip this Saturday, because he had 'family trouble', so he didn't have to be up early for his job. That didn't stop him from waking up at nine o'clock. Unthinking, he didn't bother to get dressed, but stumbled through to the kitchen, to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

Then he froze, at the sight of a shirtless Wolf and a woman dressed in a pair of Wolf's boxers, and an extremely tight strappy top (without benefit of bra), sitting at the kitchen table.

"Oh my god." He muttered, totally unable to move, rooted to the spot with embarrassment, and becoming more and more embarrassed as he stood there.

Two pairs of eyes flew up at him, and Wolf looked thunderstruck.

"Oh _shit_." He muttered. Apparently, Ian Rider wasn't the only person to forget Alex.

"I'm sorry." Alex apologised, hastily, to the woman "I'll… um… I'm just, er… going. Sorry…"

The woman looked at him, and gave him a tiny, unfriendly lip-smile. "Is he yours?" she asked Wolf, frigidly.

"Him?" Wolf said, jocularly, giving Alex a glare that said '_go, now_!' more emphatically than words, "No, of course not. Nah, I'm just doing a favour for Child Services. I told you I worked for the government, didn't I?"

"Oh, yeah…" she purred, leaning towards him. Alex fled, as her words floated after him. "You're so good…"

* * *

He gave them an hour and a half, while he did his homework, then he dressed, and practically ran out the door, pausing only to grab his keys, and pull a frozen dinner out the freezer.

He went over to Tom's house, in absence of anywhere else to go. Tom opened the door, and brightened on seeing Alex. In the background, Alex could hear shouting.

"Hey, Alex. D'you want to go somewhere. Umm… like, now? Because my house is a bit unsafe at the moment. I mean, you're welcome to stay, if you'd like, but…"

"Let's go." Alex interrupted him, quickly. "Anywhere. I don't care where – but I don't want to be here right now."

"Sure." Tom grinned, relieved. "We'll walk to the Tube, OK? You can leave your bike here."

They settled on a Starbucks, where Alex wolfed down a blueberry muffin like he'd never seen food before, while Tom stared in consternation.

"Is your SAS guardian not feeding you or something?" he asked, a faint tinge of worry in his voice that warmed Alex no end. "What has he done, put a minefield between you and the fridge?"

"I didn't get a chance to eat breakfast this morning, is all." Alex shrugged, and explained the situation he'd walked in on this morning. Tom whistled.

"Shit. Nice one, Alex."

"How was I supposed to know that he was going to have a woman there?" Alex protested. "I mean, I didn't know!"

"No, I know. But… shit! So, is he a good guardian, or whatever? Can I come and camp at your place?" This last was said with a hopeful smile. Alex sighed, shredding the paper cup his muffin had come in, and not meeting Tom's eye.

"I haven't really seen him all that much. This morning was the first time I've spoken to him since Wednesday."

"So – that's a no, then?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You've got some of the worst luck in the world, Al, you know that, right?"

"It'd be a little hard to miss. What with all the people trying to kill me, I mean."

"Yeah, I guess that would get your attention." Tom grinned.

* * *

They stayed out until six o'clock that evening, when Tom said, reluctantly, that he'd have to go home.

_'Not that they'd notice I wasn't there.' He said, quietly, 'Just I don't want to risk them possibly noticing, and then dragging me into their arguments, having mum say that Dad drove me out of the house, and dad saying the same thing about her.'_

Alex went back with him to get his bike, and, when Tom asked him to, he agreed to go in with him, just to provide 'moral support' while his friend told his parents that he was home.

"Hey, mum, dad, I'm back…" he said, going into the kitchen. Alex followed him. Tom's voice had made both of his parents look towards him, and the piece of plate his mother had been about to throw went off course, and was flying towards Alex.

As it happened, it lost height as it went, as she had only been intending to smash it on the floor, not throw it at her husband, but the sharp edge still sliced across the back of Alex's wrist.

No one noticed Alex's sharp intake of breath, not even Tom, and Alex didn't want to fan the flames of the already-volatile household, so he kept quiet about it. He said goodbye to Tom, and kept his bleeding arm firmly out of view.

Alex had been hoping that James would be out when he got in, as he had been before, to give himself a chance to bandage his wrist up without the man noticing. He knew that, so long as it wasn't bleeding, he could hide it from his guardian – but he had no such luck. As soon as he shut the front door of the flat, Wolf appeared in the doorway to the living room.

"Look, Alex, about this…shit, what happened to your arm?" The man hurried over to him, and picked up his hand, to get a better look at it. "It's nasty." He said, shortly. "How d'you do it?"

Alex considered lying, and considered just not answering. In the end though, he just couldn't be bothered to make up a lie. "My best friend's mum through a bit of plate at me." He said, tiredly. "It's nothing."

Wolf was already running the cold water. "Put your wrist under this." He ordered, while he hunted through the cupboards to find the plasters.

"They're in the cupboard above the microwave." Alex told him, referring to the plasters. "And I thought you were no good at first aid?"

"On myself." Wolf clarified, getting out the plasters. "On others, it's OK."

He bandaged up Alex's arm, neatly, and then said, seriously. "I'm sorry about this morning. That was Gloria. My girlfriend."

"She looked nice." Alex offered, weakly, not entirely sure what to say.

"She is. I'll warn you next time she's going to come round."

"How? We never see each other." Alex pointed out.

"Yeah, about that…" Wolf shifted, rather uncomfortably. "Look, I'm going to be around more next week. Thanks for doing the shopping, and the cleaning, by the way. Oh, and Michael's coming round tomorrow. He said he wants to make sure that you're OK. Um… are you?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, almost as awkward as James. "Yeah, I'm OK. Thank you." He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he gave him an awkward smile, and moved away from him, out of the kitchen and into his room.

Alex reflected, that night before he fell asleep, that facing down world-renowned criminals was far easier than knowing what to say to the man who was 'looking after' you – and obviously didn't want to.

* * *

Ahah! And, we're done for another chapter. It's a bit boring now, I grant you, but I promise, it will getmore interesting. I have big plans for this fic.Now,to thank my reviewers.

**soaringeagle**: thanks. I'm desperately trying to get the two of them to bond, but Wolf's being awkward, damn him. Still, I'll have managed it soon enough.LOL!

**fghj: **To be honest, I'm not sure whether there'll be any global trouble, though I'm being pretty flexible about what goes in and hat doesn't. I know the basic outline of the story, and where I want the characters to go, but as to how they get there, I'm not sure. Still, I'm glad you liked it!

**Audrey G. Black**: Thanks! I'm ever so slightly in love with Wolf too... and he's gonna play a massive part in this!

**Alexi.Locke**: Don't worry, there'll DEFINITELY be more. Thanks for saying I write well, that's really nice of you, all us 'authors' like to hear it! ;-) And, like I said, Wolf is a favourite of mine, too, and he's definitely gonna play a huge part in this 'ere story.

**LAlaRACOON: **I've updated as soon as I can, hope you like!

**musicsage**: I'm glad you like the characterization - it does tend to get a little off here, doesn't it? I'm afraid they are going to change, and Alex may seem a little OOC later on, but I'm trying my hardest not to make him seem as self-sufficient as he does in the actual books, because it doesn't fit for where I want this to go. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but it's the only thing that works. Don't worry, though- he's still gonna kick some ass later on. (is it Freudian that I originally wrote 'kiss some ass'!)

**Eagle's daughter**: I'm glad you like it - and thanks for reassuring me about my Spanish! (I'm kicking myself about the 'mio', though - I've just taken my GCSE in Spanish, and I have this sneaking suspicion I wrote 'mio'. Damn. It's all my brothers fault - he's learning ITalian at the moment...) To be honest, I don't think Wolf really notices how clean or dirty the house is! Thanks for your review!

**Sabhaircin**: Aww, thank you! I'll update as quick as I can!

**Boo26**: You are absolutely wonderful, and if I could, I would kiss you. Sorry, but your review gave me a wonderful idea - involving parent meetings, Wolf, and Michael desperately trying to reign him in, and make him just a _little_ bit less aggressive... Thank you! Consider yourself metaphorically kissed. ;-) In a completely platonic way, you understand! Oh, and thank you so much for saying you liked it!

**rocks and glass**: I thought the concept was amusing too - I know I didn't write it to be funny, but I write it grinning. For me, it's something about the idea of Wolf being forced to be a parent, and REALLY having no idea what he's doing. For you, it may just be my appalling writing (seeing as you specifically said you though I wrote well in your review, that becomes extremely obvious as a fish for compliments. Oh well. What can I say? I'm a high-upkeep sorta girl...)

**writing-chick**: Thanks - I will do next time, though I'm trying to practice my Spanish, cos I'm taking it to A-level... shakes

**Missmelissa4251**: Yeah, he has a really uncomfortable house doesn't he? Just the thing to make a fourteen year old feel at home. Well, Alex'll have to help him out, I guess... Thanks for your reviews, they're always lovely!

**cutecess**: Thanks for the grammar tip, I didn't know that! And thanks for your lovely review, too, it made me smile. A lot. No, the books don't say Wolf's Spanish, but they say he speaks with a slight accent, so I just made him spanish. If I'd been sensible, I'd have made him french, seeing as my french is (marginally) better than my Spanish, but oh well. I'm glad you like this! (on the other hand, have you ever tried typing a story about a guy called 'Wolf' with a computer that's missing a 'w' key? My advice is: don't. LOL!)

**Eternal Rhapsody**: I really can't remember whether I've said this before or not, but I love your name. It's so cool! Anyway, thanks for your review, it was really nice. Here's the more you wanted!

Well, I'm finished here. Lol, ami xxx


	4. Chapter 4

_OK, it's not letting me do the neat little line thingy, so this is all you're getting - little stars between different sections. _

I was asked when this was set; it's after Skeleton Key. SOrry for not mentioning that! Yeah, it's after Skeleton Key - Eagle Strike and Scorpia are going to happen, but with a twist. You'll see what that is in about two chapters time, I should think.

I get my GCSE results back tomorrow, along with a hundred thousand other people, and I'm nervous as hell. So forgive me not writing anything else, or saying thank you for all the reviews - I'm so grateful, but I'm just too stressed to comment on it now.

IIIIIIII

Sunday dawned too early for Alex, who woke to the late autumn sun pouring through the window, a side-effect of being too tired to close his curtains the night before. Although it was early November, the sun had decided to put in an appearance this morning, and Alex was woken by it at eight.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep, Alex forced himself out of bed and listened for a couple of minutes to make sure that Wolf wasn't in the shower – the last thing he wanted was an even more embarrassing early-morning experience. When he couldn't hear anything, he grabbed his towel, and headed for the bathroom.

Showered and dressed, his hair wet and occasionally sending drips onto his T-shirt, Alex made his bed, and looked at the pile of washing in the corner of his room. Three shirts, boxers, socks, dirty casual clothes… he really needed to do some washing. On the other hand, though, it made no sense to do just his own – apart from anything, once he'd separated light coloured clothes and dark coloured clothes, he'd be washing very few clothes at one time, and it would be a waste of washing powder and of water. Alex sighed. He'd have to wait, and ask Wolf whether he wanted any washing done.

With very little to do, he tidied his room up, got his books ready for school tomorrow, made sure that he had a clean shirt and that everything was tidy, then looked at his clock. Another sigh followed – it was still just ten to nine.

Breakfast took about fifteen minutes, and Alex was willing to bet that Wolf wouldn't be up for ages yet. He tried reading, but nothing took his interest. He didn't want to turn on the TV, in case he woke Wolf, or in case it took too much money, or something… in any case, day time TV had always bored him. After about half an hour of waiting, bored and with nothing to do, he washed up the dirty bowls and plates, etc, that were in the dish washer by hand, simply out of sheer boredom. He cleaned the kitchen again, scouring it, but even that didn't help alleviate the boredom of the morning, in a flat which was still heavily silent with sleep.

Finally, in desperation (and forgetting about Michael Webb's visit), Alex scribbled a note to Wolf, and left. He was sure Tom would be glad to see him, and if he wasn't, or if he wasn't allowed out, there were other friends he could meet up with.

IIIIIII

At Tom's house, he rang the doorbell, and waited.

A small, extremely pretty dark-haired woman answered the door – a woman Alex recognised as Tom's mother. Having only ever seen her when she was screaming insults at her husband, he wasn't prepared for her to smile charmingly, and say, in a friendly, kindly way,

"Oh, hello. You must be Alex – I recognise you from your last school photo. I went through it and picked out all Tom's friends. He never brings them home any more." She ended on a slightly wistful note, but then shook herself, smiled determinedly, and continued, "I suppose you're here to see Tom."

"Well, yes, if that's OK." Alex nodded, uncertainly.

"Of course it's OK," she smiled, "Don't be silly. Tom!" she called over her shoulder, "There's someone here to see you!" she turned back to Alex, and stood back, holding the door open, "I'm sorry, do come in. Tom won't be a minute… I know he's up, I heard the shower, and it certainly wasn't my husband."

Alex smiled nervously, hoping that the mention of Mr. Harris wasn't going to turn her into the screaming harpy he'd seen before, but she seemed almost unaffected by it.

That lasted all of five minutes, until a tall man, also dark-haired, walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Harris, who had her hand on Alex's shoulder, pushing him gently into a chair, stiffened, and practically hissed when her husband said, sarcastically,

"Bit young to be one of your toy boys, isn't he, Marie?"

Alex flushed bright red at what he was implying, but Marie Harris squared her shoulders and said, coldly, "This is one of Tom's friends from school. You do remember Tom, don't you? You know, _your son_?"

Alex could feel the row brewing already, and excused himself with a hasty, "I'm just going to go and see where Tom is…"

The shouting exploded before he was even out the door.

IIIIIII

Tom was in his room, pulling on a T-shirt. He gave Alex a rueful smile. "They've started late." He said, quietly. "I guess you being here has been a good influence."

"Your mum seemed so… so…"

"Normal?" Tom suggested, bitterly. "Yeah, they're perfect parents – so long as they're not together. Calm, reasonable, friendly, generous… and then you put them in the same room, and suddenly they're… well, they're impossible. So, are we going out?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, off-handedly. "Anywhere you want to go, in particular?"

"Well, we could go to the cinema, or something." Tom suggested, grabbing his wallet.

"Oh, er…" Alex shifted, uncomfortably, "I missed my Saturday job this week. I, er…I've got no money."

"That's OK." Tom said, shrugging. "I've got my allowance, I'll pay. So… d'you need breakfast this morning?"

They were half-way out the door when Tom's dad shouted from the kitchen, "Where do you think you're going, young man?"

Tom sighed, and turned back into the kitchen. "Out, with Alex."

"What about your homework?" his father boomed.

"It's done." Tom replied, shortly. "I finished it yesterday. I told you, at supper – but I guess you were too busy shouting to hear me."

"Tom!" His mother said, shocked, "We always listen to what you say!"

"Yeah, sure – which is why you remember me saying that, I guess. Right?"

Alex didn't like the tension in the room, so he stepped forward, and said, quietly, "Tom's just helping me with my history coursework. He understands the, er… Roosevelt's New Deal better than me, so I asked him if he'd help me with it, and he said yes. We're just going to go to my house, if that's OK."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Harris looked more at ease after that, and they were waved off with an amenable smile from both of them. The two adults waited a full five seconds before throwing insults at each other again.

"Wow." Tom said, smiling, "I'm impressed. I guess that's why MI6 employ you, huh? Because of your diplomacy and excellent lying?"

"Yeah." Alex grinned, half-heartedly, "And my age."

"And because you can kick people's ass."

"And because they really don't care if I get killed."

Tom was silent for a few seconds, then said, uncertainly, "Yeah – but that's true of everyone, isn't it? I mean, they _can't_ mind. If they minded sending people into places where they might get killed, they'd go mad."

"Yeah, it's true. I just wish it wasn't me they were sending." Alex replied.

"True… but you're here now. So, which movie are we going to watch? The new Harry Potter film's supposed to be good…"

IIIIIIII

After the movie – they had gone to see the new Harry Potter film, but Alex had fallen asleep in the middle – Alex picked him his bike from Tom's house, and rode back to Wolf's house.

He had the feeling something was wrong the moment he shut the door behind him. The voices in the living room were raised, and occasional words and snippets of the argument floated through to him here and there as he listened, putting his keys and jacket down as silently as possible.

"Not fit to look after a child… why… not even with Child Services… honestly…"

"Doing my best, Michael… not a parent… I'm sorry… how could…"

He made his way through to the living room door, and paused, uncertainly. Michael and Wolf were in the middle of a full scale fight, that much was obvious – and it seemed to be about him.

"Hello?" he said, tentatively, never one to shy away from a fight, but understandably nervous when approaching an angry, highly trained SAS operative.

Not that Michael knew that, of course.

Wolf calmed almost immediately. "Hi, Alex." He said, shortly. "Did you forget that Michael was coming round?"

Alex gave Michael a glance, and a fleeting smile. The man had been nice, but Alex knew better than to immediately trust people. "Yeah, I had." He said, coolly. "What's the fighting about?"

"Nothing…" Wolf began, but Michael interrupted him.

"The fight," he said, with a piercing glare at his friend, "Was about you, Alex. As I'm sure you knew." Alex kept a level gaze on him, not bothering to flush or deny it, or in any way admit that he might have been at fault. His knowing it might have been because he was eavesdropping, and might therefore have been perceived as being something to be ashamed of, but eavesdropping had saved his life before now, it was something he'd been trained to do; it wasn't something he was going to feel guilty about now. "I don't think James is a fit guardian for you, and I want to know the real reason why he's looking after you. Or not looking after you, if I know James."

Alex looked at him for a few seconds longer, then glanced at Wolf and started to grin.

"You want to know the real reason?" he said, still grinning. "The whole truth?"

Wolf flinched, almost imperceptibly, but Michael nodded. "Yeah." He said, very softly. "I do."

"Well, the whole truth is that actually, I'm an escaped convict." Alex told the younger man, confidingly. He wasn't entirely sure what wild urge had caught hold of him at the moment, but whatever it was certainly felt more interesting than anything else had this whole, boring day. "And Wolf – sorry, that's his codename within our gang; it's a nationwide conspiracy, our gang, did you know?" Michael shook his head, looking increasingly bemused. Wolf, however, had looked amused the moment Alex had said he was a convict, and his last statement had brought a slow, amused smile to his face which made him look totally different. He looked almost like someone Alex could _trust_ when he smiled like that. "Well, anyway, I went to the ringleader, and he told me to stay with Wolf until the police attention died down. So here I am. Except, now I've told you, I'm going to have to kill you."

Michael grinned. "Nice try, kid." He said, but looked serious again a moment after. "I'm serious, though. Why are you staying with him?"

"James is a government employee on semi-leave." Alex sighed. "And I'm a problem child they need a temporary home for. We got paired up for a couple of weeks."

"James?" Michael looked at him. "Is that true?"

"I told you this before, Mike. Yeah, it's true." Wolf said, looking him straight in the eye. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I… don't know." Michael admitted, reluctantly. "But I do know that whatever job you do for the government, it doesn't involve much sitting behind a desk. The day you started working for them, you started disappearing for weeks on end, and I've barely seen you. I don't know why this kid has suddenly appeared, but I don't believe a word about him being a problem child, he seems like a good kid – and I'm not sure I believe this has anything to do with your 'job'." Wolf cracked a small, sarcastic smirk at that, and Alex could almost hear what he was thinking: '_You have **no** idea_…'. "Surely, if they wanted a government employee, they'd have picked someone from Child Services to look after him?"

"Who said I don't work for Child Services?" Wolf asked, blandly.

Michael sighed, deeply. "Sure, whatever. What's lunch?"

Wolf swore, then looked guiltily at Alex, who just shrugged, and bit back a smirk of his own. "I forgot. I put a joint beef in the oven, it's probably a bit burnt by now…"

The kitchen was filled with smoke, and when it cleared enough for them to see the beef, it wasn't so much a joint of meat as a piece of charcoal.

"Jaime, when did you put this thing _in_?" Michael asked, looking in horror from the smoking, blackened lump to Wolf, who shrugged, vaguely.

"About nine-ish?" he said, doubtfully. "I'm not really sure."

The blond man glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's nearly three o'clock!" he pointed out. "You've been cooking it for at least five hours! How do you just _forget_ about it?"

"I'm not a very good cook!" Wolf defended himself. "You know that. I was just trying to make a nice meal because… well, because."

"See, _this_ is why you're the last person I'd trust to look after a child." Michael said, and Alex, looking from Wolf to Michael, decided to step in before a fight started up again.

"Anyone want a toasted cheese sandwich?" he suggested, quickly.

"James, the kid is looking after you, not the other way round." Michael frowned. "I'm really not happy with this."

"I know. You've made your point, but could you stop referring to him as 'the kid', please? It's getting on my nerves. You know his name."

"Sorry." Michael apologised, to Alex. "A toasted cheese sandwich would be great."

IIIIIII

Michael and Wolf watched a football game after the make-shift meal, and Alex washed up, and went and lay on his bed for a bit, reading, and listening to music on his iPod. He didn't know Michael had left till Wolf appeared in the doorway, about an hour and a half later.

"Hey." He said, awkwardly. "Can I come in?" Alex pulled his headphones out, and nodded, wordlessly. "Thanks. Look… I know I haven't been the best guardian, or whatever. But, I, er… it's not cos I don't like you… it's just, I don't know what to do. I've never had to look after a kid."

"I don't need much looking after." Alex shrugged in response. "I'm pretty good at looking after myself."

"I know." Wolf said, ironically. "I was there at the camp, remember? God, I was a real bastard to you, wasn't I?"

"Yes. But then, you were OK at Point Blanc." Alex pointed out. "And if you hadn't been such a bastard, I'd probably have got myself binned because it was such hell."

"Why _were_ you there? Or aren't you allowed to tell me?"

"You already know I'm a spy, and if you're gonna sell me out, that's enough information. I don't see how it's going to hurt telling you – if you want to know."

"Yeah, sure. It'll pass the time."

"You remember a guy called Herod Sayle?"

"Asian guy, amazingly rich, and giving all those laptops away in return for British citizenship? I thought he got a freak case of pneumonia, and… oh. He died."

"Yeah, but it wasn't me who killed him. That was Yassen Gregorovich. No, Herod Sayle had gone to the same school as the Prime Minister, and had been bullied by him. I guess it gave him come kind of complex, because he wanted to completely ruin him, and to do it, he was going to kill all the school children in Britain with his 'gifted' laptops. They all had some kind of small-pox virus in them."

"And you stopped him?" Wolf asked.

"Obviously." Alex smirked. "But it took three sprained muscles, swimming with a lethal jellyfish, and a parachute jump over the Science Museum to do it."

"It's probably being taught to the SAS as a case scenario of what not to do." Wolf smirked back.

"Probably. On the other hand, that's not my problem. I did what I was supposed to do. So… what was your first assignment?"

They spent a relatively companionable evening talking about the various missions MI6 had sent them on; Wolf commented before he left that it was probably the first civil conversation they'd ever had with each other. They didn't say goodnight, exactly – that would have been worryingly friendly, and they weren't on good enough terms just yet – but it was certainly a better atmosphere than they had been living in for the past few days.

Alex went to sleep feeling hopeful. Perhaps this next week wouldn't be so bad, after all.

IIIIIIII

Don't be fooled! Things don't look up for _at least_ another... ooh, three days or so?

Well, until next time, dear people - good night.

ami. xxx

PS. Thanks for all the reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry it's late - and An Object Lesson is coming soon, as is Sub Zero. Honest.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed - I'm not doing individual thanks anymore, because apparently it's 'against site rules', but there we are. Your reviews still mean as much as they did before, and if you send me a PM, I promise I'll reply at some point. I have a slight issue, given that I'm at a boarding school where a lot of sites are banned, including but I will get back to you eventually.

(Oh, Saynt Jimmy? I hope this was the one you meant, but look, see! I've updated something!)

Thanks again!

DISCLAIMER: Anthony Horowitz is now refusing to speak to me. Negotiations about buying the book rights are now officially over.

Well, sort of. They sort of didn't start. In fact, I've sort of never spoken to... no, wait, I _have _talked to Anthony Horowitz. He came and talked to my school, and I asked a question! But... book rights never came into it. More's the pity. So, yeah. They're still not mine. Maybe for my next birthday...

* * *

Shockingly enough ,Wolf was actually there the next morning when Alex got up. He looked tired, and was drinking a large cup of black coffee, clutching it like it was a lifeline.

"Hey." Alex said, awkwardly, hovering in the doorway to the kitchen, unsure as to whether he should just walk in and take whatever it was he wanted, or wait to be asked.

"Don't just stand there, you're making me nervous." Wolf snapped, and Alex shrugged. Apparently he'd been wrong to feel hopeful last night. "Get whatever you want, and hurry up. You've got to get to school, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I've got three quarters of an hour." Alex pointed out, but Wolf didn't seem to care that much.

"Look, Cub, I've got a meeting to go to tonight, OK? So I'll come back, eat, and leave again. Just in case you're wondering. D'you need someone to come in while I'm not here, or anything?"

Alex stared at him, completely dumbfounded. "Er… no." he shook his head, trying desperately not to collapse into laughter. "I, er… I think I'll probably do OK on my own, thanks. So – what's the meeting about, or can't you tell me?"

"Can't tell you." He grunted. "State secret."

"Oh, of course." Alex sighed. They had to be one of the few households in England where state secrets were the topic of breakfast-time conversations. "So, d'you want me to put out one of these for you?" he asked, opening the freezer and pulling out the first frozen dinner which came to hand.

Wolf grunted again, which Alex took to be a yes. Deciding – fairly accurately – that Wolf didn't want any more conversation, he ate his cereal in silence, put his bowl in the dishwasher, and grabbed his bookbag, muttering a goodbye, and leaving. It was too uncomfortable to stay in the flat any longer.

* * *

He was met by Tom at the school gates, and they fell into step easily enough.

"How're you?" Alex ventured, finally.

"OK." Tom sighed. "My dad got served his divorce papers this morning, and him and my mum have finally stopped screaming at each other. Now, they only talk through their lawyers. I swear to god, they ask each other to pass the salt through their lawyers, if I'm not handy."

Alex nodded, sympathetically. "I'm sorry." He said, a little helplessly, with no idea of what to do, or say. "I…"

"No, don't be." Tom shrugged. "It means that they're not yelling insults at each other, and they might, finally, turn back into decent parents, rather than appalling partners. I could deal with that. In fact, I can't wait for that to happen." He glanced at Alex, then away again. "I don't know which is worse; when they were screaming, or now they've started ignoring each other. Look, Alex, I _know_ your SAS guardian said no visitors, but I really to stay away from that house as much as I can; could I _please_ come round for, like, an hour or something, after school?"

The blond boy thought over Wolf's warning about bringing friends home for a brief second. Well, he shrugged, mentally, it wasn't like Wolf was going to notice. "Yeah, sure." He nodded. "I don't see that he has to know."

* * *

The day passed without incident, unless you counted Alex getting full marks in English for a piece of creative coursework with the title "My Secret Life". It hadn't exactly been hard for him, to say the least.

In any case, Tom and he cycled back to the flat Alex was currently sharing with Wolf, and Alex let them in. Tom stared about in wonder, then turned back to his friend, and said, in a shocked voice,

"But… it all looks so _normal_!"

Alex hid a grin. "What were you expecting? AK-47 assault rifles lying on the kitchen table? Or perhaps you're waiting to find the room with 'torture chamber' written on the door?"

Tom threw a good-natured punch at him, and Alex ducked, purely out of reflex. "Shut up, you know I'm just following stereotypes. I haven't exactly had as long to get used to this MI6 thing as you have."

"It's OK. D'you want a drink, or shall we just go straight to my room?"

"Let's just go to your room." Tom gave a little shudder. "This place may be normal, but it's giving me the creeps…"

"Why?" Alex asked, throwing the question over his shoulder, as he was already leading the way to his room.

"It's _too_ normal. There's nothing in here that looks like the person who lives here has any personality at all. Even the books are normal. There aren't any paintings or photos, or anything… it's like… like… a model. It doesn't look like anyone lives here."

Alex thought about that for a second, then just passed it off with a quick shrug. "Yeah, I guess you're right. On the other hand, you can understand why, can't you? I mean, it's like if you're talking to a terrorist, you don't tell them where you live, or go to school. If someone manages to find out where he lives, the last thing he wants them to do is find out something which they could use against him. It's kind of like the last line of defence, I guess."

"I can't understand that." Tom said, frankly, as he followed Alex into the little room. "Maybe it's because I'm not a spy. I get the terrorist part, but I think if I were living the sort of life you and he are, I would want my place to feel as much like home as it could. It'd be my last line to sanity, not my last line of defence. But then, I've never had to have a first line of defence, really, let alone a last."

"Yeah, well. Either way. So… what d'you want to do?"

They talked and did very little homework for nearly half an hour, when the phone rang. Alex paused, unsure as to what to do, then said, reluctantly, after it had been ringing for nearly half a minute,

"I'd better go and answer it…"

He made his way to the kitchen, where he knew there was a phone, and picked it up.

"Hallo?"

"Alex, is that you?" the voice was achingly familiar. "It's me, Jack."

"Hey, Jack." Alex said, with a small smile. "How're you doing?"

"I'm… I'm OK, I guess."

Alex was many things, but he wasn't stupid, and even a deaf man could have heard that there was something amiss. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed, and gave a rather pathetic little laugh. "I should have known you'd know when something goes wrong. You've got a sense for trouble like no one I've ever met."

"Well – what is it?"

"Alex – you know how my dad had to go into hospital, for some tests?" she didn't wait for Alex to reply. "And that was why I had to come over, so I was with them when it – when they got the result. Well… we got the results today." She paused, sniffing wetly. "Oh, Alex… my dad's got cancer, and he's got six months to live."

Alex had never met Jack's dad, but the news was like a blow to the stomach. "Oh." Was all he could seem to manage, but it didn't really seem enough, when talking about the death of the man whom Jack had always promised Alex, since he was about nine, she would take him to meet one day, the man whom Jack had obviously adored, and who had played such a huge part in her life. "Oh." He repeated, still shocked. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's OK." Jack choked. "But I really don't want to leave him, so if you don't mind, I can arrange for you to come out here, and go to school here and things. You can live with us at my house, and everything…"

Alex swallowed. "No, it's OK." He echoed her. "You should, um… you should just stay as a family. I'm OK here – I'll, er… I'll talk to my guardian, and I'll ring you when I know… exactly what's happening."

"I'm so sorry." She whispered down the phone line. "I just don't know what to do right now."

"It's OK, Jack. Tell your dad…" he had no idea what he should ask her to tell her dad, who was dying of cancer. Should he say he was sorry? Or good luck? What? "Tell your dad I said hi." He ended, lamely, kicking himself for saying something so stupid.

Jack choked out a giggle. "I will do, Alex. Take care of yourself – and if you need to, it's OK for you to come out here and live with us until…" she took a deep breath. "Until it's all over."

"Yeah." He swallowed. "I'll, um… I'll see you."

"Yeah. Bye, Alex."

"Bye."

He hung up gently, and returned to his room, blank faced, and thinking hard. He didn't want to intrude on the last few months of Jack's time with her dad, but he had absolutely no reason to expect that Wolf would want to keep him around for half a year.

"Who was it?" Tom asked, immediately as he returned.

"It was… that was Jack. My… housekeeper, I guess."

"What'd she say?"

"She's staying in America for six months." Alex said, numbly. "Her dad… her dad has cancer, and they think he's only got six months left, and she wants to stay there. Obviously. I, er… well, yeah. That's it. She's staying there."

"What are you going to do?" Tom asked, gently.

"I don't know. Look, Tom, you'd better go, if you don't mind. Wolf – James, my guardian – he's gonna be back any minute now, and I really need to sort out what I'm going to say to him… d'you mind?"

Tom smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. It's OK." They got his things together, but at the door, Tom paused, and said, a little awkwardly. "Y'know, Alex, if you need to, you can come and stay with me. I know it'd be difficult, what with my parents being so stupid at the moment, but they wouldn't mind having you, and I'm OK with it. Just if your SAS guardian doesn't want you to stay with him. So, yeah. Think about it…"

He left abruptly after that, barely pausing to say goodbye, leaving Alex with his thoughts, which were tumbling and snarled, moving too fast, then coming to dead ends, or tying themselves in knots.

Alex had no idea how he finished his homework that night, nor what he said; he only did it because he needed something to do to pass the time.

Of course whether or not Wolf would keep him around would be an issue, but the other issue was whether Alex could survive six whole months with Wolf as his guardian. The man had hardly seemed like he wanted a kid around, especially a kid he found as annoying as he found Alex, and Alex was far from sure that he wanted to spend six months with a man who had that sort of an attitude towards him. On the other hand, where could he go? Sure, Tom had extended an offer of a place to stay, but he sincerely doubted it would be open for half a year. And where then? He had frighteningly few options. He could, of course, go back home to the house in Chelsea, but, with no money, he would have no way of getting any food, or paying the bills, or doing any of the other things necessary to keeping a house up and running.

In other words, he was entire dependant on Wolf's good will. And he wasn't sure how much of that there was, for him, at the very least.

* * *

When Wolf got home, Alex was waiting for him at the kitchen table, chewing his lip and trying hard not to wring his hands. Wolf looked at him silently for a few seconds, then went to the fridge, and pulled out the carton of orange juice. Pouring himself a glass, he said, casually,

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

Alex glanced at him, then stared back down at his hands. "Yeah. Um, Jack… my, er… my guardian, she rang me. Just now. Well, about half an hour ago, but just now as in today…"

"Wait, 'Jack'?" Wolf looked at him, puzzled. "I thought you lived with a girl. Woman."

"Yeah, I do, it's just, she's called Jack. She might be Jacqueline, I don't know. I've always called her Jack. Yeah, anyway, she rang. She… she'd gone over to America, cos her dad was in hospital, did you know that?" Wolf nodded, and motioned for Alex to continue. "Er… he's got cancer. Of some sort. The doctors say it's terminal and he's only got about six months to live…"

"Are you going over to America?"

"I don't think so." Alex whispered. "I don't really want to. I mean, they're a family, y'know? It'd just be awkward for them having me over there – and I don't think MI6 would be wild about letting me out of the country."

"No, probably not." Wolf agreed, thoughtfully. "So, you need somewhere to stay?"

"Yes." Alex nodded, studiously avoiding eye contact. "My friend – Tom Harris – he, um… he offered me a room, but he didn't ask his parents, and I don't think I could stay there for half a year. Not really."

Wolf put his glass on the table, and sat down, giving a very slight wince as he bent his leg. "Look, Alex. I… This morning, I went to the doctors…"

"That's the meeting you had?"

Alex wasn't dumb enough to miss the dull flush that rose on the man's face. "Yeah. I was… a bit embarrassed. Anyway, the doctor – he said that he didn't think I'd be fully ready for any real, active field duty for at least a year. Gentle stuff, deskwork, that sort of thing." He frowned. "I _hate_ paperwork." He added, after a brief pause, a tinge of petulance in his voice which he quickly suppressed. "Anyway, the point is, I'm willing to bet my entire salary that MI6 is going to think looking after you would be the perfect job for me, OK? So, um… you don't need to worry about the whole "nowhere to stay" problem."

Alex gave him a quick, grateful grin, and stood up. "D'you want me to put the dinners in the microwave?"

Wolf looked at him, strangely. "You know, Alex, you are the weirdest kid I've ever met."

"Probably." The blond boy agreed, rather more cheerfully than before. "But it's more interesting that way, isn't it?"

"Well, that's one way of putting it." He heard Wolf mutter.

* * *

C'mon, you're all intelligent people with opinions and verbal skills. I'm sure you've got _something_ to say. It can't have been so bad you're _speechless_... right?


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is dedicated to Von. Because… well… all I have to say is it's all her fault. Seriously.

Actually, Von, this didn't end up quite as I planned – I could have done it better, and put more detail and emphasis on the Laser Quest thing, but it's now 12.10 am here, and I'm knackered. I've been writing for ages (took me longer than I expected), and it's about eighteen pages long. It's not as good as it could be, but it's OK.

All of you – tell me what you think, OK? Please?

So, yeah. Von helped me develop a lot of the ideas in here – apologies for any OOC-ness (I tried, but I have to start developing them a bit differently now), excessive swearing and semi-graphic violence. On that cheerful note, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I tried. I really did. But they're just not selling those copyrights to me. The books are still Anthony Horowitz's.

(And Miss Melissa? It was shortly after Scorpia came out, and I went up to him afterwards, and asked him why the hell he'd just killed Alex. I was one of the first (thousand) people to know that Alex was NOT dead!! (But Mr. Horowitz thinks I'm a freak. Oh, well… you win and lose some…))

* * *

After the night before, and the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on, the next day felt strangely anti-climatic to Alex. Last night, he had made dinner, and, for the first time, the two of them sat down together and ate them. Alex had no idea what he should say to the man, so, short of answering questions and occasionally asking them back (in the style of: 'how was your day?', "Fine, thanks – yours?"), conversation was limited. After that, Wolf dropped the bombshell on him, saying that he'd have to talk to MI6 about getting permission for Alex to stay. 

"Like I said," he'd begun, "They'll be fine with it, but if you're going to be here for six months, there's some legal stuff which they'll be able to push through for us. And you'd better get some stuff out of your house. You're gonna need more, now that you're here for longer. I'll drive you over." He'd chewed his lip. "I'll email Mrs. Jones' secretary – she'll fit us in an appointment tomorrow, if I say it's urgent – and you'd better call in sick. No, wait," he'd looked a little surprised, before saying, slowly, "I guess _I'd_ better call you in sick, right?"

Which was why, for the first time in his life, someone was calling in sick for him; he wasn't handing in a doctor's note after a month of absence, someone else was taking the fall for him. Watching Wolf on the phone, trying desperately to work out what he was supposed to say to a rather irritated school secretary ("But, Mr. San Luca, Alex had missed so much school already – are you sure he's really ill enough to warrant a day off?"), was amusing, if not slightly odd.

Alex himself was perched on the arm of the sofa, in jeans and a hoody, waiting for James to be finished so that they could go to the Royal and General Bank, and talk to the relevant people.

It was strange to think of going to MI6 of his own accord; most of the time, he was summoned, and went with reluctance. To be going without such a summons felt – alien.

He glanced at his watch again. Miss Bedfordshire had good reason to be irritated; she couldn't have been in school for more than five minutes when Wolf had rung, telling her of Alex's 'sudden fever'. Right now, it was a quarter to eight, and Alex himself was still feeling a little sleepy.

Wolf, of course, looked like he'd slept ten hours, and sprung out of bed at six, fresh and ready to face the day.

Mentally, Alex reprimanded himself for talking like an advert for sleeping tablets, and focussed on what his 'guardian' was saying.

"I'm sorry about this, ma'am…" he repeated, patiently. "But there's nothing I can do about it. He's running a temperature of about forty degrees – it doesn't seem to be too serious right now, but if it gets worse, I'll be getting a doctor in. If I have to do that, I'll send you a report. I have a feeling it's just a twenty four hour bug which is affecting him badly, though." He paused. "Yes, I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow." Another pause. "Yes, if you could inform them… right, thank you. Thank you." Yet another pause, shorter this time. "Thank you, Miss Bedfordshire." He hung up, and turned to Alex, faintly disgruntled. "OK. Coming?"

Alex hastened after him.

They took the Tube up to Piccadilly, and walked the few streets to the Royal and General Bank in silence, Alex always a few steps behind Wolf (despite his limp, which was noticeable if you saw him walking further than from one room to another, he was still walking faster than Alex), aware that if he fell behind too much, Wolf wouldn't realise until he was inside the 'bank' itself. And Alex knew, from experience, that he had as much chance as a snowball in hell of getting behind the front that was the bank without a summons.

Wolf, however, had no such trouble. He showed someone some ID, which was approved, and headed for the lift.

Alex bit his lip. ID could have made things so much easier, especially as regarded Sabina Pleasure – but then, having an MI6 ID card would mean that he was actually a part of their organisation, which was something he had been fighting against since the beginning. On the other hand, why did he have none of these things? He'd read up on the SAS(1), and they had councillors on hand after difficult missions, they had security benefits, and pensions and physical trauma help, compensation if they were permanently damaged, things Alex didn't. What if he was crippled, now? What would happen to all his hopes of a decent job? Unable to work, bad grades because of never being at school, and a non-existent CV, because he could hardly put 'spy' down as his past employment.

With a sigh, he pushed the thoughts away. That wasn't what he was here for – it was never what he was here for. He was always here so MI6 could rearrange his life a little more to their liking.

Wolf led the way up to Mrs. Jones' office, and her secretary (someone new, young and pretty and intelligent looking, with neat red hair in a bun, and the ubiquitous office girl's sensible-yet-sexy black suit. Alex caught Wolf's grin, and smothered one of his own), smiled at Wolf, gave him a once over glance, and waved them into the office-proper.

Alex wondered, briefly, how old Wolf was. He couldn't be over thirty, surely – in his job, thirty might as well have been eighty – but he had the sort of face which didn't seem to age, and he could have been any age from about forty to twenty. It was a little worrying to think how little they knew of each other.

But then Mrs. Jones was motioning for the pair of them to take a seat, and they both sat, both watching her, and waiting for her to start.

"I understand your guardian is going to be in the United States for six months." Mrs. Jones said, quietly, to Alex, after a brief pause. No one in MI6 bothered with actual greetings, unless they were called Smithers.

Alex nodded. "Yes." He said, then shut up. If he'd learnt anything, it was not to volunteer more information than was necessary.

"Do you mind staying with Wolf for the next six months?"

Alex glanced at him, briefly. "No." he said, with a shrug. "Not really."

He knew adding the 'not really' was unnecessary, but he felt he needed to show some sort of reluctance at the arbitrary way his life was being decided for him. Mrs. Jones, though, just nodded.

"Alright, then." She turned to James. "Lieutenant? Do you have any problems?"

Wolf didn't shrug. "None." He said, quietly. Mrs. Jones looked between the pair of them.

"Alright, then." She said, after a pause, noting something down on an official looking form, and pressing a button on an intercom of some sort. Within seconds, the secretary was back. "Hannah, take this down to Jefferson, in personnel. Tell him it's to be processed as quickly as possible, and with as little fuss. Tell him to contact Megan Walker at Child Services, and to refer any problems back to me." Hannah took the piece of paper without looking at it, nodded, and left.

Mrs. Jones looked at the two of them again, and said, finally, "I'll contact you when the legal side has been sorted."

Both of them recognised the dismissal for what it was, and they left without a word. MI6 didn't do goodbyes.

* * *

Wolf didn't even take him to the door of the building. "Since I'm here, I'm going to start work, OK?" Alex nodded – he couldn't say that he was surprised by Wolf's detachment. He hadn't expected anything else. "I'll see you later, then." The man said, a little awkwardly. "Probably around six. Are you going to be OK on your own?" 

Alex almost laughed, but figured he shouldn't, when the man was making so much effort to be 'parental'. "Yeah." He nodded, managing to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, I'll, er… I'll be fine."

* * *

He was fine; he managed to finish some history coursework, and wrote up his notes for Chemistry again, which had been ruined when – well, at some point, he couldn't remember exactly. He thought he might have taken them on the trip to Skeleton Key, in a vain attempt not to fall too far behind on his school work, which would explain why they looked so bad. 

It always surprised him, the way he always got everything back. After the Stormbreaker affair, and Point Blanc, and the rest, he had never specifically packed up his things and taken them home, but they were always waiting for him when he arrived – finally – back in Chelsea, after whichever 'adventure' he'd been on. Maybe that was MI6's answer to his wages.

He watched some TV, and re-cleaned the kitchen, which was beginning to get dirty again; then he set the dishwasher going, and re-cleaned the bathroom.

He paused outside Wolf's room, more out of curiosity than any desire to actually clean it. The door, as always, was shut, but Alex couldn't help but wonder what it was like in there.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Looking round the large, light room, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. There was a double bed, neatly made, with plain, dark green sheets. A desk with various papers stood under the window; a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, with a rather dusty mirror above it – Wolf obviously wasn't someone who felt a burning desire the check his appearance very often – and a rug next to the bed, in front of a bedside table. The bedside table was nothing remarkable, except for the photo frame which stood on it. There were no photos anywhere else in the house.

Alex couldn't help that he went to look.

A black and white photo, of a woman. A very pretty woman, whoever she was – dark hair, put up, or cut in a style which Alex thought vaguely might well be from the fifties, but as far as he knew, could be from any age, and dark eyes, heavily made up. High cheekbones, wide lips, smiling at the camera, but not too much – the movie star look of the early to mid twentieth century.

Alex carefully took the back off the frame, and checked the back of the photo – nothing written there. But there was a letter, on old-fashioned writing paper, written in beautiful copper-plate handwriting, cursive and looped and difficult to decipher.

'_Dear James,_

_You know that this is possibly the last letter I can write to you…" _Alex read no further, not wanting to intrude any further into James' privacy. He just checked the signature – Elena San Luca. Mother? Too old? Grandmother? Maybe. But in a house without photos, why would Wolf have a photo of his grandmother, of all people, on his bedside table?

Alex replaced the back as gently as he could, and put the frame back in exactly the same place, leaving the room as quietly as he could, but not sure why he felt he had to be so quiet.

* * *

He didn't mention it when Wolf got back that night, but then, they didn't really talk much until the meal, an hour and a half later, and, shockingly, it was Wolf who started the conversation, with an awkward, 

"So – good day?"

Alex resisted the urge to gape at him. "Er… yeah. Yeah, I guess. Um… you?"

"Pretty good. Desk work."

"And you hate deskwork, right?"

Wolf nodded, looking resigned. "But – well, I can't just do nothing. I'd go mad." He paused, then said, slowly. "We need different rules, don't we?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the separate lives thing is all very well for two weeks, but for six months, it might be a little difficult…"

"Oh, I don't know, Ian and I managed it for thirteen years…" Alex murmured, but Wolf ignored him, continuing as if he hadn't heard.

"…plus, you're not that bad. I can stand being around you. I think."

"Let's not be too friendly, huh?"

Wolf gave him a very small smile. "Point taken. OK, well… maybe we should try to get to know each other? So maybe about now. Cos I might be gone early in the morning, and I'm, um… not really a morning person. I get up, and do my job, but I get grumpy easily. Desk work for people who are just off active service doesn't often over run, so I'll always be home around now."

Alex thought about it. "Yeah, OK." Spending half a year with someone who neither knew him not wanted to was not something he wanted to do. At least Wolf was making an effort, which was more than he would have thought he'd do this time last week.

"And, look, I'm supposed to be responsible for you, so if you need to go somewhere at night, or something, can you tell me?" He sounded a little unsure, but Alex really appreciated him asking as a question, rather than demanding it. It meant he recognised that they weren't at a stage where they could really demand anything of each other, and that was more than anyone else in Alex's life had recognised for a long time. Someone was bothering to take his feelings into account.

It was a novel feeling.

"Sure." He nodded.

"I'm, er… if you're sick, I really will just call a doctor. I can't do anything for illnesses."

Much though Alex appreciated the effort he was making, he couldn't help but ask, "Why the sudden turn around?"

Wolf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I could just about justify being horrible to you for two weeks. Six months is stretching it, even for me."

Alex gave the half-joke a bigger smile than it was worth, and was about to say something when the doorbell rang.

Wolf showed no sign of surprise at all, but then, Alex hardly expected him to. His had was near the place where a gun would be, though, as he opened the door. For a few seconds, Alex heard nothing but some murmuring; then a vaguely familiar voice said, a little louder,

"Aren't you going to let us in, when we've come all this way just to see you?"

Whoever it was, Wolf decided to let them in, and Alex hastily cleared away the plates, shoving whatever was left in the bin, and dunking them in the sink with a clatter.

There was a hush. "What – or who – was that?" a Scottish-accented voice asked.

"Oh…" Even Alex, who hardly knew him, could hear the hesitance in Wolf's voice. "That's Alex."

"Who's Alex? New girlfriend? What happened to the other one – Amelie, or something."

"Amy? Oh, we split up. And no, Alex is… I'm looking after him for a while."

"Looking after him? Is he a dog, or something?" The Scottish voice asked.

Alex was starting to suspect who these people were

"A dog, clearing up plates? Because that was plates crashing together." The first voice pointed out. "He's obviously missing Scotland desperately. It's making his head go funny." It said, mock-seriously. "Honestly, though, who is it?"

Alex decided to put Wolf out of his misery, and appeared in the kitchen doorway.

He'd been right. The group he'd been attached to in Wales, for his eleven day SAS training, was stood in his guardian's hallway.

"I'm Alex." He said, quietly, and they all looked at him.

"Shit!" The first voice said – last time Alex had met him, he'd been calling him Eagle – the tall, wiry one with a slightly beaked nose, and grey eyes that seemed to miss nothing, but laugh at it all, at the same time. "Cub, right?"

Alex nodded, resignedly. "Yeah."

Eagle looked him up and down. "Last time we saw you, you were recovering from a run in with a high speed train. You look a bit better now."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "I should bloody well hope so." He retorted, and Eagle gave him a lopsided smile, then pursed his lips, critically, looking him up and down.

"Not much, though." He added, and turned to Wolf. "He's got a mouth on him, hasn't he?"

Wolf shook his head. "Swear to god, that's the most he's said in the last week."

"To be fair," the last of them, whom Alex had known as Fox before, "If I was – however old he is – sixteen? Fifteen? – and I was staying with you, I'd keep my mouth shut."

"Oh, sure." Wolf nodded, with a faintly evil grin. "But then… Alex is braver than you are." He ducked Fox's swipe at him, and said, rather plaintively. "Don't hit me, I'm injured…"

"Yeah, and has he told you how he was injured, Cub? Alex?" Eagle asked, grinning. Alex shook his head, and Wolf sighed.

"I guess it was bound to come out sooner or later. D'you want to sit down while you tell it? Then when you start rolling around laughing, you haven't got so far to fall."

The five of them traipsed into the sitting room, and Alex hovered nervously, till Snake said, with a small grin,

"Oh, sit the hell down, kid, you're making me nervous, hovering like that."

Alex did as he was 'told', and Eagle leant forward towards him.

"James is, as I'm sure you worked out when you were training with us, a paragon of SAS-ly virtue."

"A veritable demigod." Snake said, sarcastically.

"Able to take every task on without flinching. Except… you probably also noticed – in fact, if my mind serves me right, you definitely noticed – that he's not the most diplomatic of guys. In fact, he's often a bit of a prick, and if we, as friends, can say that, I'm sure you can imagine what our enemies think of him. I mean, he's very polite, never does anything to the prisoners, or anything, but let's just say, we've learnt not to put him in charge of negotiating a hostage situation. Which was how he got his war wound."

"He pissed off someone with hostages?"

"Well, yeah, that would be black mark number one, but he pissed them off _so much_ that they didn't even bother killing one of their hostages, they just went straight for him. In fact, he got them so riled up that the guy came out of the building and ran straight at him, screaming that he was going to kill him with his bare hands. Or, that's what the translator said he was saying, afterwards." Eagle thought, for a second. "I think that might be one of the things you have to be there to find funny. It wasn't funny so much that he got shot, that was kind of an unfortunate side-effect, more that – well, more that this guy was jumping up and down, screaming at him. We still don't know what you said, that pissed him off so much, do we?"

"Nope." Wolf shrugged.

"Though, insulting his ancestry, his tactics, and his country was probably a bad idea."

"Hey, I didn't do… well, I insulted his tactics." Wolf admitted. "Shouldn't have worked him up _that_ much."

"Well, apparently, it was a bit of a touchy subject with him, since he _shot you_ for it." Eagle pointed out.

"We thought he'd been hit in the balls, he went so white." Snake told Alex, in his soft voice. "There was blood all over the crotch of his trousers."

Alex flinched at that.

"Actually, how are those balls, James?" Fox asked, with a grin.

"Doing nicely, thanks, Matt." Wolf said, dryly. "Nice of you to ask." (2) He looked at them. "So, what're you doing here?"

"Just popped over for a chat." Eagle said, innocently. "Oh, and to tell you about your replacement."

"Replacement?" Wolf leant forwards. "Who?"

"You want name, address, family, past occupation?"

"I know you don't know that. Not till he decides to tell you it, anyway."

"I know. Well, his code-name's Bear, so I guess you can imagine what he's gonna look like." Eagle said.

"I've met him." Snake volunteered.

"Is he bear-like?"

"Looks more like he's been in the Navy." He said, doubtfully. "I mean, yeah, he's big – 'bout your height, Neal," he said to Eagle, "But your kind of build, James. He's a big, big guy. Nothing we can't handle, though." He grinned. "If he gets out of hand."

"Sure." Wolf nodded.

* * *

By the time Alex went to bed that night, he felt much more positive about the coming six months than he had done before. The men who'd been so stand offish before were now friendly and welcoming – as Eagle, the most talkative of the four of them, put it, he'd "earned friendship". 

The only thing which worried him was meeting the new guy, Bear. Wolf had wanted to meet him, understandably enough, but hadn't wanted him knowing where he lived. They'd been suggesting various venues – a pub ('we can only drink one beer, where's the fun in that?'), a club ('to meet some stranger? Yeah, good one. Doesn't look at all creepy, or Mafia-esque…'), the park ('so you can beat him up in the dark, perhaps?'), and various others, until Alex himself had jokingly suggested Laser Quest.(3)

All four men had looked at him, and Fox – or Matt – had said, after a pause,

"Fuckin' _brilliant_." He grinned, "I haven't been to one of them since I was about – well, about your age." He had looked over at Wolf. "And hey, James, it'd be a great chance to work with him, but not. Really bonding experience, too. What d'you think?"

Wolf had given Alex a look. "Y'know, sometimes I wonder about you."

"Well, you don't know me well enough not to." Alex had pointed out, dryly.

"Fourteen going on forty, this one." Fox grinned.

They were going to meet at a Laser Quest centre nearby, at six thirty on Friday. The other guys had wanted it to by Thursday, but Eagle had surprised Alex by saying, firmly,

"Alex can't go then, though, it's a school night." Wolf protested.

Alex had looked at him, surprised. "I didn't know I was invited…" he'd said.

The other three had looked slightly surprised. "Why not?"

"Cos… I'm just the kid. The tag along, y'know? I'm OK on my own, here."

"Hell no." Eagle grinned. "It's more fun if you're there. Then we can pick on you mercilessly. It'll be just like the old days."

Alex had grimaced, but it was decided. He was going.

* * *

Talking to Tom about it the next day had been nothing if not amusing. He'd mentioned that he'd met up with the people who had trained with him, and Tom had jumped on it. 

"So…" he said, after a few minutes of hammering out the details. "You and a roomful of the SAS, and you're telling me that… _no one_ got killed? _No one_ was seriously injured?" Alex shook his head, with a smile. "Wow. You really were on best behaviour, weren't you?"

The news that they were going to Laser Quest sent him mental.

"Oh, hell, I have _got_ to come to that, Alex – please?"

"I really don't think it's a good idea…"

"I don't wanna join it, I just want to watch – entertainment value, y'know? I'll be really good, I'll call them 'sir' and everything, but you can't deny me this… please?"

"Tom, if I do something he really doesn't like, he'll chuck me out. Wolf just about tolerates me, but two fourteen year olds? Look, he's just starting to like me, and I don't want to risk that. I've got to spend six months with him. Please don't push me on this?"

Tom pouted, but agreed, with a sigh.

School, though, at the moment, was surprisingly easy. He'd been there for three weeks now, the longest he'd been present for a while, and people were starting to be a little more certain of him, now that he was there, and wasn't doing anything extraordinary. He handed in his History coursework, he turned up on time, he did all the science experiments without chucking acid in people's faces, he played in football matches, turned up at the cricket practices for the people in the top teams, did his prep. And while he was doing all that, he was talking to people – kids his own age, who were starting to warm up to him again. For the first time in a while, he had friends.

Friends who asked him if he wanted to meet up that night, when he got to class on Friday.

Alex smiled, apologetically, and said, regretfully, "I'm really sorry, I'd love to – but I'm staying with this guy who's really strict about curfew on weeknights. Even Fridays, it's really unfair, I've got to be back by seven, unless he's decided to take me somewhere, so I really can't. Saturday night I can, though?"

Their faces, which had become a little suspicious, cleared. "Oh, sure." One, a boy called Nat, said, cheerfully. "We were planning on going to the cinema tonight, but I guess it'd be OK tomorrow night. Anyone else got a problem with tomorrow night?"

No one had, so they agreed on that. Tom, who was part of the group, grinned at Alex, and winked when no one was looking.

* * *

Wolf and Alex arrived at Laser Quest bang on time – punctuality was apparently pretty important in the SAS – and met everyone else there. 

Alex immediately took a dislike to 'Bear'. He was a big, big guy, with his hair shaved short, just like everyone else, but with a nasty look which the other four lacked. Alex had met that sort of guy before – Mr. Grin, Eva Stellenbosch, and all the other evil henchmen he'd met seemed to share something with Bear. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was there.

Apart from that abstract something, he was perfectly normal. A rather thick-featured face, but essentially handsome; thin lips, but a wide mouth which was smiling genially at the moment, large nose, broken at some point, and brown eyes. He looked like a dozen other men Alex could think of, but there was just something – off – about him.

They were introduced, and Bear had stared at Alex, and said, in a deep, harsh voice, the smile leaving his face,

"Is this a joke?" Alex was vividly reminded of Wolf's first words to him. Apparently Wolf was too, since his voice was more than a little defensive when he replied,

"No. Not a joke."

"Is he your kid?" he asked Wolf, a little accusingly. "Couldn't you find a sitter for him, or something?"

"He's not mine. He was part of our unit, during training."

"Oh, really." He raised an eyebrow, the shadow of a laugh in his voice, and looked taken aback when they all nodded, deadly serious. His face darkened, and he growled, eventually "I don't like kids around me, even for something relaxed like this." His voice sounded threatening, and he was looking straight at Alex; Alex felt a cold shiver go down his spine. "Kids screw things up."

"Not Cub." To his surprise, it was Eagle speaking, and for once there was no hint of humour in his voice. "He managed pretty much exactly the same training as all of us about ten years earlier, and got through it. I think you should let him alone."

"OK." Bear shrugged. "But don't expect me to baby you, boy." He turned and went in, and Alex shrugged himself and followed. Behind him, the four men exchanged glances, before following him.

They kitted up in dead silence, and Alex had to smother a couple of smiles. The way the SAS men were treating it, it would have been easy to think that they were actually about to go to war; their faces were grim, they checked their weapons, and made sure that they were all comfortable in their 'harnesses'.

Wolf checked Alex over, and said, in a low voice,

"Don't worry about Bear. Snake says he's just… difficult sometimes. He has odd likes and dislikes."

Alex shrugged. "I can deal with people like him."

"Guess you can." Wolf nodded, and went over to check Bear's equipment. Despite the fact he was off active duty, there was no doubting who the leader in their group was. The old men all deferred important decisions to him, gave him the deciding vote. Bear appeared not to notice or care, but Alex, who was watching him carefully, noticed his eyes assessing Wolf more than once.

They were briefed, as always – "no actual physical violence, guys', the man said a little nervously. The five SAS men had to be pretty intimidating, Alex mused, even if you didn't know that they were SAS. When the man said that, though, four of them laughed. Bear just looked faintly disappointed, but cracked a grin when Wolf looked at him. The rules of the gave were simple. If you were hit the first time, your gun didn't work for a minute. Second time, two minutes, and so on. Captives could be taken, but forcing them inside your 'base'. The base's electronic sensor would record them as captives and disable their gun while they were inside. There were points for captives, and points for hitting people. Getting hit meant losing points, and in the end, the team with the highest score won.

There were three other teams inside the main area where they'd be playing the 'game', they were told, but they'd all use different colour lasers, so they'd know who was who. That told, they were taken inside the room, and left in their base, waiting for the game to start.

"OK." Wolf began, seriously. "Right, we'll take it in turns to guard the base, and any prisoners; Snake, d'you mind going first?" Snake shook his head. "OK. Someone will relieve you in five to ten minutes, got it? Good. Right, we'll send out a scout to check the area," The room they were in was huge, with several floors, and several staircases on each floor; the staircases, Wolf had pointed out on the way up, were going to be the most dangerous and vulnerable places, "Probably you, Alex, as you're the smallest. Fox, you got the other way to Alex. Come back and report.

"Bear, Eagle and I will wait for you. When you come back, we'll move as a unit, for the base which is the most vulnerable, right? Capture as many as we can, and disable as many, too, so we can't be fought off. Then we'll retire to our base, and plan the next attack, with the same manoeuvre, got me?"

They all nodded, except Bear, who said, sounding deferential, but Alex could hear his irritation, even if the other men couldn't, "D'you even need our input?" it sounded like a question. It wasn't. It was a jab at Wolf's authority.

"That's why I've stopped now." Wolf pointed out, a little coolly. "For you to give me any ideas."

"Why are you in charge?"

"Because he's a higher rank than you?" Alex muttered. He really didn't like Bear. Fox shot him a small, quick grin, but Bear also caught the words, and turned on Alex viciously,

"Are you talking back at me, you little shit?"

Alex shrugged. "D'you think I am?"

He didn't honestly expect the fist that hit his jaw less than a second later; he should have, but he'd thought he was safe. Not expecting it, he hit the floor almost as hard as Bear had just hit him, and he curled himself up, knowing from experience that where one came, more followed.

None did, and he uncurled himself to see Eagle shoving the bigger man up against one of the pillars. "What happened to self-discipline, humility and kindness, Private?" he asked, almost casually.

"Oh, I guess they don't teach them anymore." Fox said, mock-downcast. "We're getting old-fashioned here, Neal…"

Snake knelt by Alex. "You OK?" he asked, softly. He peered at Alex's face. "You're gonna have a beautiful one there." He commented. "But James is pretty good at dealing with bruises, so I guess he'll patch you up." He paused, and said, more softly. "Don't worry about Bear. We'll keep him away from you; He's just a bit of a bastard, I'm afraid."

"It's OK." Alex shrugged, ignoring the dull ache in his cheek. He felt his teeth with his tongue; all present. He felt like kicking himself – he might have had a habit of saying things like that, but he usually expected the punches afterwards. He should have been expecting it.

"OK, then." Snake stood up, and Alex looked up at the little scene. Wolf had replaced Eagle pinning Bear to the pillar, and his face was inches from the bigger man's, as he said, very calmly,

"I'm in charge because I was voted that way half a year ago. You're a replacement, the most junior person here – more junior even than Cub – so you don't get to question that, alright? And if you ever, _ever_ do anything like that again, I'll make damn fucking sure that you're not even a replacement for very long."

He stepped away, and Bear casually adjusted his clothes, as if nothing had happened.

They waited in silence for the game to start, but Alex could feel Bear's eyes on him. When he turned to look at the man, he got a glare before the man's eyes slid away, as if totally disinterested in him.

* * *

When the game did start, they followed Wolf's battle plan exactly. Alex scouted out around two staircases, and found one enemy base; Fox found another, down one of the staircases on his side of the floor. 

Alex's base seemed to contain a family, three adults and four children, maybe aunts, uncles and cousins. When he reported this to Wolf in a whisper, Wolf nodded, grimly.

"OK, be careful not to injure or scare the kids…" he began, when Alex said, a little uncertainly, not sure any more what the reaction would be, and prepared, now, for another smack,

"If you take the kids captive now, they'll scream until the end of the game that they didn't have a chance. They'll be really hard to control, and their parent's will get really snappy with you… And if you don't capture a parent as well, they'll be really, really angry that you just stole their kids…"

"Cub's right." Snake backed him up. "Go for Fox's one. Eliminate the group at the bottom of the stairs, then you've got a sure staircase you can use."

"Good point." Wolf whispered, to one of them. Probably Snake. "OK, Fox – lead the way."

Alex got a kick out of seeing the SAS team move as one across the floor, silent and practically invisible, while hearing the screams and shouts from around the room, seeing kids running all over the place. The difference almost made him laugh, and he already felt like laughing, just at how seriously they were taking this 'game'. He bit it back, in time to feel someone's fist connect hard with his shoulder blade. Not expecting it, he went flying forward, hitting Fox as he fell.

"Shit!" Fox whirled round with a violently whispered expletive, and frowned on seeing Alex on the floor. "Cub? Are you OK?" To his credit, he immediately looked at Bear, who was looking innocent.

"Yeah." Alex murmured, not making eye contact. "Yeah, I'm OK. I just tripped."

"Well…" he said, uncertainly, "Don't do it again, right?"

Most of the game was spent like that; Bear would get away with whatever violence against Alex that he could, but the team as a whole managed to capture or put out of action most of the other players.

The funniest instance was undoubtedly the last, where they were 'attacking' the family. Wolf had sent Snake (Eagle was guarding their base) to climb up the netting around the family's base. When the Dad eventually ventured out, Snake dropped on him from the top, pumped him full of – laser – and disabled him, while the other four shot everyone they could see in the base, captured all of them, and lead them back to their base. The look on the kids faces had been classic. They looked completely and totally gobsmacked, staring up at Wolf in sheer dumb terror. Their mother – or possibly their aunt – had shrugged resignedly, and said, with a laugh,

"I guess we should surrender to superior forces, right?"

She had _no_ idea, Alex thought, privately.

That effectively ended the game. Eagle, Fox, Snake and Wolf came out raving about it, but Bear was quieter. When pressed, he grinned, and said what fun it had been, but his eyes, on Alex, were watchful, and far from friendly.

"That was an amazing idea, Cub." Eagle said, grinning, and slinging an arm round the boy's shoulder. "Pity we didn't re-meet you sooner, really, isn't it? Think of all the fun we could have had, acting like small kids, which we've missed because we didn't know you."

"Neal, you act like a small kid anyway." Fox pointed out. "You need not help whatsoever doing that."

The two of them started bickering, pausing only just long enough to agree to go to the pub. Alex gave them a smile, and said, quietly,

"I, er… I think I'm gonna go hom… back to your flat. Is that alright?"

"Are you gonna be alright, going back on your own?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded.

"Then – I'll be back by about ten." He promised. "I'll check on you then."

Alex resisted the urge to point out that he didn't need to be checked on and shrugged. "OK."

He headed off towards the nearest Tube station, and the other three men – Eagle, Fox and Snake – yelled various goodbyes after him. He had no way of knowing that a few minutes later, Bear excused himself as well, claiming his girlfriend would be waiting for him at home. He left the same way Alex did.

* * *

Alex heard someone behind him, but didn't turn round; after all, he was in London, at eight-thirty at night. There were bound to be other people around, and someone behind him was far from unusual. 

Then he felt the uncomfortable, self-conscious feeling of someone staring intensely at him, and felt too self-conscious to turn round. When they got close enough that he could practically hear them breathing, he glanced over his shoulder – and saw Bear.

He ran for it, but Bear was bigger than him, and had a far longer, quicker stride. There was no contest.

The street was deserted apart from the two of them, and Bear obviously felt confident that he could deal with Alex quickly, because he didn't bother to find anywhere more private.

"You little shit." He growled in the boy's face, slamming him up against the brick wall. Alex's head whipped back and smacked into the wall so hard, he saw stars where Bear's head should have been. "I needed to make a good fucking impression, and I get shown up by a fucking kid? I'll teach you a goddamn lesson…"

One fist landed on Alex's jaw, and he could taste the bitter, unpleasant, metallic taste which told him he was bleeding. Then he sucker-punched Alex, and the teenager doubled over, wheezing. It was easy for the much stronger man to push him over, and start kicking him. A few whimpers of pain could be heard, but apart from harsh breathing and the soft 'thud' of foot hitting flesh, there was no other sound.

Alex had no idea how long it went on for, but it could hardly have been more than about a minute, two minutes at the most. He knew that he lay there for a long, long time, desperately cold and uncomfortable, but unable to move, body shaking as he went into shock, unable to string together a coherent thought through the haze of pain and shock which seemed to be fogging his mind. No one walked down the street, that he knew of – and if they did, they probably just assumed he was another drunk, or homeless person, asleep or passed out on the street. No one helped him, and eventually, he pulled himself together, and forced sore, stiff legs to cooperate. It took him minutes to stand up, and when he did he wasn't sure that he was going to be able stay upright – his legs hurt so badly, and he was shivering so hard. But he managed it, weaving his way to the nearest Tube station, which seemed miles away, and finally collapsing on the train homewards.

* * *

James had been waiting for half an hour by the time Alex stumbled through the door, at a quarter to eleven that night. 

"Where the hell have you…" he began, when Alex looked at him.

The boy's face was swollen with bruises; a dribble of half-dried blood was at one corner of his mouth, and one hand hung, limp and useless at his side.

"'M sorry." He mumbled, though it had to hurt to speak. "Had an accident." His words were slurred, and he was shaking, both classic symptoms of shock. Without a word, James took him into the sitting room, and fetched him a blanket, wrapped it tightly round him, and asked him if he drank coffee. When he nodded, he made him a cup of coffee, adding a liberal amount of brandy to it, and took that and the first aid kit into the boy.

While Alex drank the coffee, James cleaned up all the cuts and bruises which were obvious, and bandaged up his wrist, which looked sprained, swollen, but moveable. He talked total nonsense to him in a calming voice; eventually, it seemed like he was beginning to calm down enough to talk to him about whatever – or whoever – it was that had happened to him. The only problem was, James had some suspicious of his own about what had happened, and who had done it.

* * *

TBC… 

God, I'm mean, to end it there.

(1) Recognise that idea, Von? Oh, and you might recognise the 'self-discipline and humility' bit, too…

(2) Now that is a misquote from "_Band of Brothers_". Watch it, and adore. 'Tis brilliant.

(3) In Australia, Q-Zar, I think. In America? No idea. Laser Tag, or something.

HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

LOL, ami.


	7. Chapter 7

Hmm... well, there are bits I like, and bits I don't - and when I say bits I don't, I mean, really, _really_ don't. I just haven't got any time to change them now, so I hope you like it. Mostly I'm worried about Wolf being OOC; I tried to keep him in character and not stupidly soppy, but it might not have worked...

Oh, well. Enjoy, if you can. Thank you, everyone, for your reviews, they were lovely; and try not to eat me for this chapter, especially the - incident - with Lucy. I promise you, tis all part of my great and wonderful plan.

Technically, I don't have a great and wonderful plan for this story. I just shove stuff in as it comes up...

Oh, and I've screwed up twice in my storyline here, guys. Firstly, Tom knows, when Alex didn't tell him till Scorpia, and secondly, Eagle Strike hasn't happened, and Alex is back at school. Eagle Strike happened during the summer holidays, so... basically, I have a very long, very complicated explanation for all this, and how it's all happened, which I won't post here, but if anyone wants to know, say so in your review, and I'll post my reasoning _next_ chapter. Everyone happy? Good!

DISCLAIMER: Well, dammit, those book rights are expensive, and they're asking more for them than I earn in about a decade, so it's not looking pretty.

They're not mine. Not just yet, anyway...

* * *

Alex was many things, but he was far from being stupid; and while he knew that Wolf wasn't overly fond of him, and that the man wasn't driven by any overwhelming affection for him, he did know that Wolf had a strong sense of responsibility, and of right and wrong. He knew that Bear having beaten up a 'child' – having used his training to beat up a child – was something Wolf wouldn't forgive.

But just as he knew that, he also knew that the disruption which would follow any accusations wasn't worth it. They would have to find a different person to replace Bear, and Wolf might suffer for having made the complaint, and even if Wolf wasn't too fond of him, he, Alex, at the very least respected the man, and didn't want to see him in any trouble because of himself. Alex wasn't worth it. So, in this particular case, it was worth keeping quiet and pretending to be incompetent, if it kept the peace.

Wolf last night, had been brilliant. He'd patched him up as best he could, waited outside the bathroom while the boy washed away the grime he'd picked up on the streets of London, calmed him down, navigated him out of shock, given him painkillers and got him to sleep. But pain had woken Alex up early this morning, and he'd had a while to think about what his story should be.

Hissing with pain, he slid out of bed, wincing as his feet hit the floor. The strange, disjointed feeling in his wrist told him that something was sprained there, but as far as he could make out, nothing was broken; he still had all his teeth; he could walk.

_Not too bad, then_. He told himself, and tried to forget about his injuries.

Slowly and painfully, he dressed, and made his way into the kitchen, where he managed to make himself a piece of toast, and sat down to eat it. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered sitting, but the pain was such that he genuinely didn't think he could stand for too long. His movements were irritatingly slow, his muscles stiff with bruises.

Even trying to eat was painful. His jaw was so bruised that chewing itself was difficult, and horribly sore, and at some point last night, he had bitten his lip through, which hardly made it easier to eat.

He didn't notice Wolf in the doorway until the man said, in a shocked voice, "Jesus, I didn't think you'd get up today."

He looked up at him in surprise. "Why not?" he got the words out rather slower than normal.

"You've taken quite a beating." He pointed out, and Alex shrugged, then, as he winced, wished he hadn't. Apparently, he was a little too sore to try shrugging just yet. "Here…" Wolf said, galvanised into action, "I'll get you some painkillers." He went to the cupboard, and, after a pause as he pulled that Nurofen out, he said, over-casually, over one shoulder, "I really think you should get checked over."

Alex stared at him. "Why?"

"Because…" he turned back, pouring out two Nurofen into his palm, and handing them to Alex. "I can't tell what's wrong with you. I don't know if anything's broken, if you've got any internal damage – I haven't seen what damage has been done to your torso, and I guess if you want, I can have a look for you, but I just…" he paused, apparently searching for the right word. "I'm worried." He admitted, finally. "And I guess – I'm angry. Because, I can't do anything, and if the most I can do for you is make sure that you're not in too much pain, and that you're actually OK, then I want to do that. It'll be a weight off my mind."

"I'm OK." Alex reassured him.

"How do you know?"

"Because I've been… like this, before." He said, a little embarrassed. "I know what broken bones feel like, and what internal damage feels like. I'm OK, I promise."

Wolf didn't say anything for a few seconds, but his dilemma was obvious on his face – whether to push it, and make Alex get checked over, and risk looking overly protective, too pushy – or whether to leave it, and not be too pushy and too difficult, but to risk Alex's health.

"Please?" he said, very softly. "I'm sorry, I know that you've got other things you'd rather be doing, but… I'd prefer it if you'd just go and get checked over."

"Tomorrow?" Alex suggested, by way of a compromise. "I've got work today, and I'm going to the cinema later tonight, with some friends…"

"Should you be working? And, y'know… should you go out, like this?" Wolf asked doubtfully. He shrugged, and added, rather self-consciously, "I've never done this before, I've got no idea what I should be saying, or doing…"

"I've done more with worse injuries than this." Alex pointed out, and Wolf sighed.

"I thought you'd be moaning about how much pain you were in." he said, "I never expected the argument to be about letting you go out. I didn't think for one minute that you'd want to."

"I'm tougher than I look." Alex tried.

"I guess you are, at that." Wolf looked resigned. "Yeah, OK, you don't have to go. But if you're feeling even at all funny, or strange tomorrow, you're going to hospital, OK?"

"Sure." Alex nodded. He couldn't help feeling a little gratified that the man had cared enough to be so – careful with him. Ian had never cared, and more often than not, Jack had never seemed even to notice.

Wolf didn't say anything else immediately. He put the kettle on, poured himself a bowl of cornflakes, then sat down opposite Alex at the table. After poking half-heartedly at his cereal for a few seconds, he said, quietly, "So… who did it, then?"

Alex just remembered in time not to shrug. "There are a lot of kids at my school who don't like me. I guess it was one of them."

"And how did they know exactly where you were, so they could beat you up? How did they know that you were going to be out on your own last night, so there wouldn't be anyone to help you, when they tried to beat you up?"

"I don't think they did." Alex said, diffidently. "I just think that they saw me on my own, and decided to take advantage of that fact."

"Oh, come on, Alex, do you expect me to believe that?" Wolf asked. "I'm not stupid. No child could have done you anything like this much damage."

"I can do this much damage." Alex pointed out, softly. "Who's to say that there aren't other 'children' who can do this, too?"

Wolf sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Maybe, but, let's face it, there aren't many kids like you, are there?"

Alex looked at him. "Did you just compliment me?"

Wolf shifted in his seat, rather uncomfortably. "Maybe, but… you know what I mean." He said, a little irritably. "Bloody hell, Alex, I've got a right to know who beat up my ward, for Christ's sake!"

"I thought we were living separate lives?" Alex asked, sounding unintentionally harsh, because he couldn't tell how he should be reacting – he couldn't tell whether the man was angry because he felt a sense of duty towards him, and because he felt that he'd failed somehow in that duty, or because he actually liked him. And because he, Alex, couldn't tell, he couldn't tell how he was supposed to react to Wolf's arguments. Living with Jack – and living with Ian – was far less complicated than this.

"I asked you to forget about that, didn't I?" Wolf asked, rather roughly.

"Well, yeah…" Alex said, slowly. "But… I mean, you don't really want to be saddled with some random fourteen year old kid, do you?" He glanced at Wolf, and saw that the man was crimson with – what? Anger, because Alex was wrong? Or embarrassment, because he was right? "And, I guess, I don't want to be a burden. So we're still effectively leading separate lives."

"You're not being a bloody burden, you're in pain, you're hurt, how is that being a burden to me?"

"That sounds a far amount like being a burden to you, and is this just because you feel sorry for me?"

"When did I say that?!" Wolf asked, a fair amount of anger colouring his tone.

"You didn't, but… I don't understand!" Alex exclaimed, finally, in frustration. "Are you sorry for me, or what? D'you feel you have to do this? Because you don't, I'll be fine, I've dealt with stuff like this on my own loads before, and I don't get what you're so worked up about!"

Wolf stared at him, and there was a painful, uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Finally, the man took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then said, in a voice which was falsely calm,

"We should talk about this later, alright? I… can't talk to you right now. I need to think of some answers for you. If I answer you now, I'll say something I'll regret."

Alex stared at him, completely bewildered. "Oka-ay…" he said, slowly, drawing the word out. They finished their meal – such as it was – in silence.

* * *

Alex went to work that day with a sense of fatalism; he knew what was coming.

Aged eleven, his uncle had encouraged him to look for a Saturday job, and he'd eventually found one working in one of the local corner shops. Six months later, he'd started looking for somewhere more interesting, and he'd been taken on by a man who ran a bike shop and repair workroom. He'd taken Alex on, taught him the rudiments of how to fix a bike, and let him get on with it. Alex had been working there ever since – it paid well, and the man who ran the store – Dan Parrington – had always said that he'd keep Alex on, simply because it was 'too much hassle to train anyone else'.

He stared at Alex as the boy walked into the store, and said, in a voice of mixed shock and horror,

"Bloody hell, what on earth happened to you?"

Alex didn't look at him. "Got mugged, last night."

"That housekeeper of yours really needs to do something about this." Dan said, turning back to the bike he was fixing with a shake of the head. "She's been letting you go off the rails ever since your uncle died. You used to turn up regularly every Saturday – now, you're all over the place. Sometimes you turn up, sometimes you don't. Sometimes you ring in to tell me why, sometimes you don't. I'm not buying this 'I've been ill' crap, Alex; there's something up with you. What is it? Drugs? Petty theft? Petty theft _and_ drugs? I just don't get it – you were always so reliable."

Alex had changed into his overalls while his boss was talking, and now he shifted, awkwardly. "There's nothing going on. What d'you want me to work on?"

Dan glanced at him, then sighed, and pointed at a child's bike, the front wheel crumpled, and both brake wires severed. "Have a go at fixing that, would you? If you can do it, I swear to god, I'll pay you twenty quid extra, the mother's been driving me nuts. "In fact…" he added, slyly, "I bet you can't do it. Not bruised up as you are." He grinned. "Bet?"

Alex nodded, with a small smile of his own. "Bet."

They worked in companionable silence, until they broke for lunch. The child's bike hadn't been too hard to repair; it had just been fiddly, requiring concentration, and time. Once the wheel had been taken off, Alex had had to rewire the brakes, then find a new wheel exactly the same as the old one in the myriad of wheels Dan had in his store shed out the back. Once that was done, he did a general patch up – cleaning it, neatening up the paint work, pumping up the tires and re-oiling the chain. It was a messy, fiddly job, as Alex had already observed, but at least it was simple. There was no double-crossing, no playing with words. It was the simplicity which Alex so often missed.

When he was done, Dan looked it over with a critical eye, then gave him a lopsided grin. "Not bad, kid. With hands as swollen as those, I'm surprised you weren't hopelessly fumble-fingered." He dug a hand into his trouser pocket, and handed over a twenty pound note. "And there's the twenty I bet you."

Alex took it, with a grin of his own. "Next time, don't bet against me."

* * *

He worked six hours that day, and had to walk as fast as he could back to the Tube, in order to be able to shower, and be at the cinema by five, when they had all agreed to meet. It frustrated him that he couldn't run, but he was just too sore to even try.

Wolf was sat at the kitchen table, writing something, and he just grunted when Alex came in; the boy showered as quickly as he could, and was on his way out again before the man called,

"When d'you think you're going to be back tonight?"

"I don't know…ten? At the latest?"

"OK. Try not to get beaten up by any _strangers_, alright?"

Alex didn't bother answering.

He was only just in time when he arrived at the Odeon in Leicester Square, and everyone else was already there when he arrived.

Tom caught sight of him first.

"Jesus, Alex, what the hell happened to you?"

Alex looked away. "Got mugged."

The look his best friend was giving him told him that he was going to have to do better than that when there was less chance that a conversation was going to be overheard.

Tom's reaction had gained everyone else's attention, and there was an outpouring of shock when they saw the bruising on his face. The girls who were there, in particular, seemed to find it very interesting. One – a tall, long-haired girl, called Tara, whom Alex had known since he was about six – leant over to him, and said, with a slow smile, which was trying to look seductive,

"What does the other guy look like?"

Alex looked at her, and tried not to grin – or wince – at her attempt to be sophisticated. "If I knew, I'd know why the hell he wanted to beat me up." He told her, quietly. She looked taken aback, and Alex felt a brief twinge of pity. One day, she might be elegant and sophisticated, all the things she so desperately wanted to be now. At the moment though, she didn't have a hope. Alex knew, thinking back on all the women he had seen over the past few months – the women he had seen, however briefly, on the Stormbreaker plant down in Cornwall, the women in Paris, when he had stopped off there before being taken to Point Blanc, all the women he had seen in Cayo Esqueleto, even Mrs. Jones, to a certain extent, who wore her sophistry more in her air than in her clothes, but who had a definite air of it all the same. Tara, at fourteen, was a little too naïve to pull it off.

The film they went to see was some sort of animated drama, with god-only-knew what plot. Alex had dozed through it, unless he was whispering to one of the others he was with; and although the film was boring, the sheer, dull normality of going to see a film on a Saturday night with some friends was reassuring.

Once the film was over, they went and got some chips from a McDonalds, and wandered round, eating them, chatting aimlessly.

"So, Alex…" one of the other boys, Ben, said, mischievously, "What _have_ you been doing for the past couple of months?"

Alex sighed. "Honestly, don't you guys ever give it a break? I've been ill. That first bout of the flu I had damaged my immune system, and I've been catching stuff really easily since."

"Right… And when you were in hospital, that was appendicitis, huh?"

"Yep." Alex nodded.

"So – where's your scar?"

"I haven't got one." Alex lied, as he'd been told to do. "They shrank my appendix using drugs."

Ben stopped, and pointed a chip at him. "You're lying, aren't you?"

"Nope." Alex shook his head, but he didn't expect any of them to believe him. None of them wanted to.

Thankfully, Tara distracted everyone with a 'blonde' comment, and the conversation moved on. Alex couldn't honestly say he was having as much fun with his own age group as he'd had the night before with the SAS men, and it gave him an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach to think about it. He couldn't have transcended people his own age already, right?

"Does anyone mind if I…?" Another girl asked; Alex thought her name might be Alice, but he was willing to be wrong. She'd come to Brooklands at the beginning of last term, and Alex had been there so little that keeping up to date with his old friends was hard enough, without the added stress of trying to make new ones. Possibly-called-Alice was brandishing a packet of cigarettes, and no one made any complaint about it.

Alex watched her as she smoked, and noticed as she seemed more relaxed, and less tense; he'd noticed earlier, in his now-instinctive scanning of any group of people he joined, that she seemed to be on-edge. Slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, he made his way over to her, and said, rather unsurely,

"Um… I'm really sorry, I don't know your name."

She turned to him, and smiled a little. "Lucy. You're Alex, right? Alex Rider, who's talked about but never seen."

He shifted from onto the other foot, but admitted, awkwardly, "Yeah. That's me."

"OK." She nodded, with a small smile, taking another drag on her cigarette.

"Look, I was wondering – could I, er… could I try…?" he gestured vaguely at her cigarette, and she laughed, sounding a little surprise.

"D'you mean to say that Alex Rider, the bad boy, who skips school and blows up the science labs, and occasionally appears at school for a week or so, looking like he's gone fifteen rounds with Mohammed Ali, has never smoked a cigarette? Jesus, I'd have figured you for a heroine addict."

He smiled, rather sickly. "No. Never tried it."

"Well, far be it from me to stop you." She shrugged, with a small smile, and handed him the cigarette. "Before you try," she said, quickly, as he was about to take a drag, "Make sure you actually take it in. If you don't, you'll just get a horrible taste in your mouth. Suck on the cigarette, get some smoke in your mouth, then breath it down, OK?"

He nodded, and did as he was instructed.

It felt strange, as he sucked the sour-tasting smoke into his lungs, and he coughed a little, but Lucy just grinned. "You can have that one." She said, carelessly. "I just got a new packet."

As he started smoking it in earnest, he could feel the strange weightlessness, and the odd sense of freedom which nicotine brought with it.

"You OK?" she asked, quietly, and he nodded. "Look…" she paused, then said, tentatively, "If you don't mind me asking, why did you want to start at all? Smoking, I mean? You look like someone who takes sport too seriously to want to smoke…"

"I don't. Not really, anyway." He said, honestly. "I just… needed to escape, a little."

"You don't want cigarettes for that." She said, sounding much surer. "Nicotine relaxes you. Alcohol makes you forget."

"You're the resident expert, I take it?" he asked, a faint hint of flippancy in his voice, and she grinned.

"You could say so." She nodded. "It's all my older sister's fault."

"Why, did she introduce you to alcohol and cigarettes?"

"In a manner of speaking. My parents died a couple of years ago, and I live with her – she's eight years older than me, and she's only my half sister, really, but we get on pretty well. It's just – she's at University, so she's got all her friends round the whole time, so I kind of see what they do, and you know what they say about kids." He cocked his head questioningly. "Oh, we copy everything we see, don't we?" she laughed, and he nodded, suddenly feeling far older than he had before.

"Maybe." He half-agreed.

"So, whenever I feel depressed, or upset, I'll steal some of her vodka. Works a treat." Another pause, while they followed behind their far noisier group. "So – what are you trying to forget?"

"A lot." Alex said, quietly.

"Like, what?" she pressed. "I mean, I try to forget my parents dying, and my bad grades, and my friends, because I left them all behind when I got expelled from my last school, and… well, stuff like that. You? C'mon, you've _got_ to have an interesting story, all that time you spend out of school…"

"I…I was really close to my uncle." He lied. "I hate remembering that he's dead. And… I hate knowing that I could get sick any minute."

It felt wrong to be lying to her when she'd been so open with him, but there genuinely was nothing else he could do. Luckily, though, she seemed disinclined to press him.

"OK." She nodded, smiling, "You're sticking to your story, then? Well, I guess that's a good enough thing to want to forget. I mean, I'd want to, if I was dealing with that. Which I guess I sort of am – or, half of it, at least…" She glanced at him, then looked out, over to the other side of the road, where there were various bars, and pubs. "Did you, maybe, want to test my theory out, about alcohol? My sister's going to be out tonight, she always is on Saturdays, so no one would notice if you came back with me…"

For a few minutes, Alex was seriously tempted. The idea of forgetting everything that had happened to him in the past few months was tempting; but then he thought of the vulnerability which would definitely come with being drunk, and of Wolf, waiting for him, and how angry he'd be if Alex turned up drunk.

"I'm really sorry." He said, slowly, "But I really can't."

"Yeah, fair enough." She nodded, breezily, unfazed. "Maybe some other time, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe." Alex nodded, stamping out the cigarette, and glancing at his watch. "Oh, shit." He murmured. "Look, guys?" he raised his voice a little, and their friends, ahead of them, turned to look at him. "I've got to go. Strict curfew, remember?" he added, when they looked a little confused.

* * *

There was a quick round of 'goodbyes'; Tom said he'd ring him tomorrow, and Lucy grinned at him, and told him that she'd lend him whatever he needed "some time soon". Alex grinned rather weakly at her, and left, as quickly as injury would allow, for the nearest Tube station.

Wolf was, indeed, waiting for him when he got back. "You smell like cigarettes." He said, with a certain distaste.

"Some of the kids I was with were smoking." Alex lied, quietly, hanging up his coat.

"You're only fourteen – aren't they a bit young to be smoking?" the man asked, sounding a little less sure, but Alex was trying to forget that he'd been surprised that the people he'd only just been with were all the same age as him. He'd felt so much older than that. He still did.

"I guess." He shrugged it off – though not literally – and headed for the kitchen. "D'you mind if I get a drink?"

"No, go ahead. You, er…you need any painkillers?"

"Um… Yeah, that'd be good." Alex nodded, a little awkwardly. He still didn't know how to react around Wolf when the man was being so… _nice_. It seemed strangely out of place in their relationship, such as it was.

"Look, I need to talk to you about all the things we didn't talk about earlier."

"Hmm?" Alex looked up from pouring himself a glass of orange juice, spilling the juice in the process. "Oh, shit…" he headed over to the sink, and grabbed a cloth. "Sorry, what did we need to talk about?"

"About you. And going to the hospital; and me not feeling sorry for you, and all that."

"Oh." Alex nodded. "um… OK, then. What did you want to say?"

Wolf sighed, sitting at the kitchen table, and interweaving his hands in front of himself, staring intently at them, rather than making eye-contact with Alex. "I'm, er… I'm really sorry about what I said when you first got here – about leading separate lives. I – I had no idea what to expect, you know? I mean, first I get shot, through being stupid, and then, as soon as I get back, I'm told that I'm going to spend two weeks looking after a teenager I spent ten days bullying, until he shoved me out of a plane. All I knew about you, I got out of the file MI6 sent me, and the ten days I spent with you at the SAS camp. Until the Point Blanc incident, I thought – you were… as a kid, I thought you were a liability."

"I know a lot of people who'd say I still am." Alex muttered, taking the seat opposite his 'guardian'.

"Enough with the sarcasm, please, I'm trying to bare my soul here." Wolf gave him a quick, awkward smile to show that he was joking.

"Sorry." Alex murmured, and Wolf sighed, and continued,

"Point Blanc – bothered me. Mrs. Jones didn't seem to care… they just sent you back there, when you'd been threatened with being dissected. _I_ wouldn't have wanted to go back there, and I'm nearly twice your age!" he stopped, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Which is why," his voice was far calmer. "Which is why I acted stupidly enough to get shot by that woman. Because it bothered me that she was about to fucking _kill_ you, and MI6 would just have been pleased you got the job done."

"But … how does this relate to your wanting separate lives?" Alex asked, a little confused.

"But stopping someone killing you is different to looking after you twenty four seven." Wolf didn't seem to have heard him. "I guess – I was worried about it; I thought I was going to have to be there a lot, and deal with a whole load of things, and I was… worried about it." He repeated.

"How would telling me that you wanted to lead…"

"I was trying to distance it. I'm not good with responsibility to other people." He admitted, and paused, slightly, as if trying to work out what to say next. "But, I guess, I didn't really know how little looking after you were going to need."

"What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't have been relying on me anyway." He said, quietly. "And now I know that, I – I can't believe I'm about to say this – that makes me…sad. Because you- you should be able to rely on the adults around you, and you can't. Not for anything."

"I can. I mean, I trust Jack, don't I?"

"Do you?" Wolf asked, very softly. "Then, why haven't you gone out to America? You don't trust her enough for that."

"I don't want to intrude on her last months with her dad." Alex retorted, harshly.

"OK." Wolf shrugged. "But did you trust your uncle? You said that you rarely saw him, either."

"What was he supposed to do, take me with him on his missions?"

"Why not, he seems to have done a pretty good job training you to be a spy, why not use it as a kind of work experience?" Wolf asked, pointedly.

"Because I would have been a toddler, you can't have one of those wandering around behind you when you're trying to kill the enemies of your country, can you?"

"Why is it about him, Alex? Why aren't you thinking about the disadvantage to _you_, being dragged around after him?"

"What are you, my psychologist?"

"I'm sorry." He sounded far from sorry. "But what did he arrange for you to do, when he was away, before that housekeeper of yours arrived?"

Alex flushed, suddenly, and looked away. "I-I would go and stay with… with friends."

"Really?"

"Except sometimes. He used to forget occasionally."

"Occasionally? How often is occasionally?"

"Just… just once." Alex shrugged. "And I, er… I went and stayed with Tom, so I was fine."

"OK." Wolf said, but he didn't sound convinced. "Look, I'm just trying… hell, I don't know what I'm trying to do. I'm – I just… My parents were shit, OK? They were really, really bad parents. And I don't want to be – that bad."

"So – this is about you?"

"Are you trying to make this hard for me?" he asked, exasperated.

"No. I'm trying to work out what you're saying. I can't work out whether you're doing this for me, or for you, or for MI6."

"Both. All three. I don't know. But you're here for six months, and that's too long for me not to try to be a good guardian, alright? I have to at least try."

Alex nodded, slowly. "OK, then. Well – thanks, I guess. I mean, it means… well, it means a lot. Or it means something, at least." He was still a little too confused about Wolf's motives and what he was saying to make any very definite judgement on it, but Wolf seemed to be trying a hell of a lot harder than most adults did with Alex.

"Thanks." Wolf said, with a sigh. "So… the whole thing with the curfew, could you, er… could you try to be back by about ten, if you're going out? I know it's early, but…"

"Ten's fine." Alex said, softly. "I'm not going to be going out that much, anyway. I'll be back by ten."

"OK." He nodded, then added, slowly. "And I guess – if you've got any problems, you can ask me, if you, er… if you want. I mean, you don't have to, or anything, but if you think I could help, then I'll try…"

Alex stared at him for a few seconds, until he noticed the man was going dull crimson with embarrassment.

"Yeah. Thanks." He said, quietly.

Wolf sighed with relief, and stood, saying, rather quickly, "I'm, um… I'm gonna go to bed now. I'll, er… I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" he turned away, then turned back, and added, off-handedly. "Eagle rang, while you were out." Alex cocked his head, questioningly. "They're all coming over, tomorrow."

"Oh. That's good, right? D'you want me to leave, or anything?"

"No!" he said, swiftly. "No, they – they really liked you, Cub. They wanted to see you, too – or, at least, Eagle said they did." He paused, then said, carefully, "They're not going to believe your story about the kids who beat you up any more than I do, you know."

"Maybe." Alex shrugged, not even bothering to lie and say that it was the truth.

"Yeah. Oh, and – Gloria's coming too. I'll introduce you."

"She's not going to like it." Alex said, darkly.

"Why would you think that?"

"Look how thrilled she was to see me last time. It might just be better to pretend to her that I'm not here; I'll stay out of her way whenever she stays over." He offered.

"She's going to find out sometime, and then she'll be angry that I lied to her." Wolf pointed out, reasonably. "It's better just to tell her the truth."

"It's your funeral." Alex said, and Wolf shrugged.

"Maybe." He paused, then gave Alex a small, half-awkward smile. "G'night, Cub."

"Yeah. 'Night."

* * *

Like it? Hate it? Tell me?


	8. Chapter 8

This chapter is, again, all Von's fault. I love having someone else to blame stuff on.

So, I did have a nice thing planned with Lucy here, to set everyone's fears at rest about the conniving little brat. But no, folks, you're gonna have to wait until next update for that. IT shouldn't be too long. This story is eating my mind.

Anyway, this is a 'filler' chapter. But it sets up some nice things for NEXT chapter, so, be not dismayed! Interesting stuff is coming, I promise.

(Oh, and for the person who asked how to pronounce "jaime" - I'm not so great with writing phonetically, but it's something like "hay-may", with the j as a rough breathing, or something like that. Sorry, not entirely sure how else to explain!)

And, also, whoever talked about Ian and Jack being really close to Alex - hmm, well, I see your point. I'm not dissing what you said, cos it's a valid viewpoint, it's just - I don't see it that way. I mean, you said, that Ian gave Alex everything a boy could want, but that's not the same as being a loving uncle. That's buying him off. And Jack - yeah, she is occasionally big-sister-like, but at the same time... she isn't always. She tends to talk to someone else about it - like at the end of Eagle Strike where she talked to Mrs. Jones about Alex's problems, knowing better than anyone else that he wouldn't want them involved. And when Alex got the st beaten out of him in Amsterdam by Damian Cray's 'game', if my fourteen year old ward came back like that, I think I'd react a little more strongly than she did. I dunno. I'm not saying she's not a big-sister, you understand. I'm just saying that a big sister is rarely the best of guardians - they're the people you go to when you want some fun. And also, I'm taking the bits of the books where I think she should have reacted differently, or more strongly, and running with them. FanFICTION, you know? (lol!) I can be subjective about this. Man, I love being a fanfiction writer, rather than the real thing!

DISCLAIMER: if that last bit didn't clue you in, nope, not mine. Darn.

* * *

Alex didn't immediately remember the reason for his feeling of impending doom when he woke up the next morning. Remembering it was like – another – kick to the gut, but, he had to admit, it kicked him out of bed like nothing else would have. If he'd stayed lying in bed, he knew that he would have brooded over it, and that would have sent him straight into panic.

As he dressed, slowly, trying to avoid jarring any of the really painful injuries Bear had given him, he forced himself to take a logical standpoint, and "calm the hell down". He reminded himself over and over again that, even if Bear was coming – and it was a big if – even it he was coming, there was little chance that he could do anything. He was safe, here. Wolf was here; not that that made him any safer, he hurried to remind himself, because he'd proved too many times that he didn't need anyone to start relying on someone whose attitude towards Alex was ambivalent at best, but Wolf being there did preclude anything Bear might want to try. It was a relatively small flat, and there was only so much the man could get away with.

On the other hand, in his rather 'fragile' state, there was only so much Alex could take.

The problem was that Alex _had_ started to feel safe in Wolf's flat, and Bear coming in made him – uncomfortable. It felt like a violation of some sort. Snake, Fox and Eagle he could deal with, they'd never threatened him, and he'd seen things and done things and had things done to him that made the ten days training in the Brecon Beacons look like they actually were from Club Mediterranee.

Forcing himself not to think about it for the moment, he headed for the kitchen.

Wolf was already there, but beyond a quick nod, they didn't really greet each other at all. Alex got himself a bowl of cereal, trying to think how he might broach the subject gently, without Wolf working about that he was worried about it. The man seemed to have a number of suspicions about Alex's injuries, and he wasn't keen to confirm them – or, at least, he didn't want to be the cause of the fall-out he was sure would come if he did confirm it. After all, Wolf wasn't on active duty, and the other men were; would they have to back up Bear because he was working with them? Alex certainly didn't want to be the person to force a rift between the four men.

He ate in silence for a few moments, and blurted out, rather desperately.

"So, who's coming today? Everyone?" he'd half-turned, but made no attempt to meet Wolf's eyes.

There was a slight sharpness in his voice as he said, quickly, "What do you mean, who's coming? I told you. Everyone."

"Yeah, but, er… does 'everyone' include Bear?" he asked, hating the way his voice cracked.

"Why?" Wolf's voice was smooth, now, but it held a slight edge. Alex could feel the man's eyes on him, watching him carefully. He forced himself not to wrap his arms around himself, as he so desperately wanted to.

"Oh, um… no reason." He said, as casually as he could; but he could hear the strain in his own voice. He turned back to the cereal he'd left on the table. "He just – he didn't seem to like me very much, and maybe if he's going to be there, I should, um… not be?"

"Alex, you live here." Wolf said, firmly. "You don't have to leave just because someone who 'doesn't like you very much' is coming. They're a guest. You're – well, yes, you're a guest, but you're a more permanent guest than most."

Alex appreciated the attempt at humour, but could dredge up more than a weak smile. "So," he pushed, "Is Bear coming?"

He risked a quick glance at his guardian, and saw that his face was a little grim. "He's coming." Wolf said, quietly.

Alex's heart gave one wild thump, and the blood rushed from his face, but he was used to near-uncontrollable fear, and, apart from going rather pale, he showed no other outward sign of being – at least momentarily – terrified.

Wolf had said something, but he, Alex, had missed whatever it was, so he swallowed, licked suddenly-dry lips, and said, in an almost steady voice. "Sorry? I-I missed that."

He missed the half-worried glance Wolf gave him. "I said, he's coming, but he isn't staying long. That girlfriend of his is cooking lunch, or so he said."

"Oh!" Relief was wonderful, a beautiful rush of calm.

"Alex…" Wolf said, slowly. "Did… Did Bear have anything to do with – with you getting beaten up?"

Alex's eyes flicked up to Wolf's involuntarily, then immediately away. He looked strangely hesitant, and Wolf frowned, watching the boy.

"N-no." he said, firmly, but cursing himself for stuttering. He was hugely grateful to Wolf for not pushing him on it.

"Right." There was a current of doubt under Wolf's words, but Alex pretended not to hear it. "Look, Alex, I've got, er… a slight problem…"

"What?" Alex looked up, relieved that he could react honestly now.

"I kind – kind of said that I'd cook lunch. You know, for everyone."

Alex nodded, slowly. "Ri-ight. So what's the problem?"

"Well, you saw what happened last time I tried to cook something!" Wolf pointed out. "I'm not – very good. I don't really know how, and I was wondering…?"

Alex sighed.

* * *

When he was eleven, Jack had assumed, from his proficiency, that he was interested in cooking, and had decided to teach him how to cook a Sunday roast. Or, just a roast in general.

She'd been there long enough that they'd had a great time, as Alex attempted to season a chicken, and make stuffing, and roast potatoes without burning them to a crisp. For a first attempt, by an eleven year old boy, it hadn't been bad – the vegetables were a bit soft, the stuffing had tasted a little strange, and the chicken and potatoes had been ever so slightly burnt, but, apart from that, it was still edible. The week after that had been better.

So it wasn't difficult for Alex to take over the cooking of this particular Sunday Lunch. What was difficult was Wolf trying to help.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a little nervously, as Alex rolled the beef in flour and seasoning. Alex gave him a flat stare. "OK!" he said, backing off. "I just – how am I supposed to know whether this is right? I don't know whether you can cook more than microwaved dinners!"

Alex shrugged, paused, and said, slowly, "Have you washed your hands?"

Wolf looked a little affronted. "Why?"

"Because I need you to finish rolling this, OK?"

"Sure." Wolf shrugged, "Why?"

"It hurts." Alex said, off-handedly, washing his hands and digging through the drawers for a potato peeler.

Wolf frowned at him a little, but Ale frowned right back at him, and, eventually, the man backed down. "OK." He sighed. "So, how long should I roll this thing for?" he hefted the raw joint of beef like it was a deadly weapon. Alex stared at him, then said, a little worriedly,

"Don't press it too hard, OK? Just… Just roll it till I tell you to stop."

An hour later, the doorbell rang. Alex had roped Wolf into laying the table, but he, Alex, had started the washing up, so it was Wolf who answered the door. Sighing, Alex dried his hands and went to finish the table.

Eagle had arrived first, and he poked his head into the kitchen and said, in a stage whisper, "Tell me you cooked this meal?"

"I heard that!"

Eagle entered the kitchen properly, and said, with a grin,

"So, how are you, Cub?"

Alex turned, a little reluctantly, and looked at him. He watched with detached interest as the warmth and humour drained from the man's face, and he ended looking much like he had at the camp in Wales – cold, hard, and dangerous. If Alex hadn't recently been introduced to the 'other side' of Eagle, he would have been genuinely worried.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, quietly, looking at the boy's face and bruised arms, which suddenly felt uncomfortably visible in his T-shirt.

"Looks awful, doesn't he?" Wolf said, from the doorway.

Eagle nodded. "Yeah." he agreed. "But what happened?" the question was directed at Alex, but he shifted from one foot to the other without actually answering.

"Someone beat the shit out of him." Wolf said, sarcastically. "But whoever did it, he's not saying."

"So, it's someone we know, then?" he looked to Wolf for confirmation.

Wolf moved over, and leaned on a counter, opposite Alex. "Well, yeah, I think so. But he says that it was – what was it?" he looked at Alex with a raised eyebrow. "'Some kids from school who don't like you'?"

"Kids can't do this much damage!" Eagle protested, then shrugged, and looked at Alex. "Except you, maybe." He amended.

"Thanks." Alex muttered, going back to laying the table.

"So, who do you reckon it was?" Eagle asked Wolf, quietly.

Wolf shrugged. "I haven't got any proof." He said, and pushed himself off the counter.

"But you've got an idea?" Eagle pressed. Wolf shrugged. "And you don't want to find out for certain?"

Alex didn't see the look Wolf shot the other man, but it was one which said, quite plainly, 'don't be so bloody stupid, of course I do'. It also said, fairly obviously, 'conversation over'. So Alex was a little surprised when all Wolf said in reply was, "Would you like a drink?"

"Just water, thanks." Eagle sighed. He looked over at Alex, and said, a little awkwardly, "Sorry, Cub. I just… I'm not too happy with the idea that someone beat up a kid."

"Neal." Wolf said, warningly, "Drop it." Alex looked at him in surprise, but Eagle just shrugged.

"OK. Sorry. So – how's school?" there was a wry twist to his words as he said it, and Alex gave him a quick grin as he fetched the pepper and salt, and checked the timers.

"School's just great, thanks." He said, with small smile. "I've missed so much, I have more homework than anyone else in the entire school, but – yeah."

"You miss so much because – you're away on assignments?"

Alex nodded.

"So, how often do you get these assignments?"

Alex shrugged, winced, and said, quietly, "Whenever MI6 decide to give me one. There isn't really any set number. I've had – three so far."

"Doing what?"

"Am I even allowed to tell you?" He asked, with a glance at Wolf, who shrugged his own ignorance.

"Of course you can tell me!" Eagle said, jovially. "You're allowed to tell family, and we're all one big happy family, aren't we?" He looked between Wolf and Alex, both staring at him with their eyebrows raised. He shook his head and sighed. "Or maybe not."

The doorbell rang again, and Alex went to open the door. As he left the kitchen, he heard Eagle say, softly,

"So – who d'you think it was?"

As he opened to door, Alex couldn't help but pray that it wasn't Bear. He felt uncomfortably alone out here in the hallway, and even though he knew that all he would have to do was say something to get his guardian's attention, he was trying too hard to make sure they didn't find out to do something like that, and that left him feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"Cub." Snake said, with a grin. "How are you?"

Alex heaved a sigh of relief that it wasn't Bear, and that the darkness of the hallway hid the bruises; he wouldn't have to deal with that scene again immediately. "I'm… I'm OK, thanks. You?"

"Yeah. I'm good." He nodded. "But – please tell me that you cooked this meal?"

"His cooking's _that_ bad?" Alex asked, grinning.

Snake shuddered. "You have _no_ idea. There's a reason we never let him cook when we were training."

"I'm not that bad." Wolf protested, as the entered the kitchen, but Snake and Eagle stared at him, in disbelief. "I'm not! I didn't mean to burn it!"

"James, you have to be _really_ trying to burn army rations." Snake pointed out, dryly. "All you have to do is put them in water, and boil them for a few minutes."

Wolf shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was distracted."

"By what?" Snake asked, softly. "Butterflies?" For the first time since they'd come into the kitchen, he looked at Alex, possibly to see what he thought of the conversation, or just to ask again whether he'd cooked lunch. Whatever the reason, no one ever found out. "Shit!" he breathed, staring at his bruised face, taking a step towards him, before stopping, unsure of what he could do around Alex. "What on earth…"

Alex shook his head. "I'm, er… I'm going to go to my room." He said, softly. "Um – Call me if one of the timers goes off, OK?"

* * *

Once he'd left, Eagle stared at Wolf. "What the hell happened to him?" he asked. "And why isn't he more – upset?"

"From what he says, this happens quite often." Wolf said, grimly. "On whatever missions MI6 send him on – we saw that ourselves and Point Blanc."

"But what happened this time?" Snake asked, quietly. "And when did it happen?"

"Friday. When we'd been at Laser Quest." Wolf told him. "You know how he went early?" they nodded. "Yeah, well, I got back, and went to check that he'd got back OK, and when he wasn't there, I- I was going to ring his phone, but I don't have the number." He paused, "Actually, I need to get that. Anyway, all I could do was wait. He got back here at a quarter to eleven. I thought he was drunk, cos he couldn't stand up straight, or walk straight. But then, you know, he looked at me, and it became a bit obvious what the hell happened."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Snake asked, diffidently.

"He doesn't like talking about it." Wolf shrugged. "Which is what makes me think he was lying about who did it. I mean, why else would he not want to talk about it?"

"He might just feel uncomfortable." Snake pointed out. "I mean, he's supposed to be this tough spy, but he's still just a teenager. Despite everything. He might just be embarrassed."

"I don't think he's the sort to be embarrassed by it." Eagle said, slowly. "It's more likely that he's hiding something, or he feels he's let someone down, so he doesn't want to talk about it. But, it's not like we really know him, is it? I mean, the longest we spent with him was ten days in Wales which we made absolute hell for the poor kid."

"Don't remind me." Wolf sighed. "I know. He doesn't trust me hardly at all, and that's the reason why."

"The Point Blanc thing was OK, though, wasn't it?"

"Except for James getting shot again." Eagle pointed out. "But I guess you did do that for him, so, you know, maybe you earned some trust points there."

"Hmm. Yeah, maybe." Wolf looked thoughtful. "I tell you what, though, I'm going to be interested to see how Bear reacts to Alex being beaten up."

"You think _Bear_ did it?" Eagle said, but Snake was already nodding.

"Yeah." Wolf's voice was hard now. "I do. I mean, he wasn't exactly friendly to Alex was he? And he'd hit him once already that night, he'd already proved that he had no problem whatsoever with hitting a kid. And then he left shortly after Alex, and went the same way – and he felt that Alex had shown him up. He strikes me as the sort of guy who'd be happy to beat up someone who'd humiliated him in his eyes."

Eagle looked doubtful. "But – Cub's just a kid. Surely…"

"I don't trust Bear." Snake interrupted. "And I think this is exactly the sort of thing he'd do."

"We know Bear even less than we do Cub. Can we honestly accuse him of this without even knowing him?" Eagle asked, quietly.

"I can." Wolf shrugged. "But we'll wait and see, I guess." One of the timers went off, and he gave them a quick smile, then went to fetch Alex.

Snake and Eagle looked at each other. "I like Cub. Y'know, from what I've seen of him recently." Eagle said, slowly. "And I just don't get why someone would want to beat him up for no reason. And Bear… we don't know the guy, how can we say that he might have done this? Surely it's more likely that it wasn't him?"

"Maybe." Snake shrugged. "But I don't trust Bear. If it turns out that he did do that to Cub, I'm not going to have any problem believing it."

The doorbell rang, and they heard Wolf go to get it, while Alex gave them a tiny, lopsided smile on entering the kitchen, and headed straight for the oven.

* * *

Alex knew they'd been talking about him from the moment he walked into the kitchen, and sighed, inwardly. He hadn't really expected them not to, but he wished the didn't have to; the last thing he'd wanted to do was stand out, especially here, with these people, who knew about him, and accepted him, where he had the best chance of fitting in.

Wolf re-entered the kitchen, followed by a woman Alex recognised; the same blonde woman he'd seen a few days ago. She stopped dead in the doorway, staring at Alex with undisguised distaste, and said, with icy sweetness,

"I thought you said he wasn't going to be here for long?"

Wolf shrugged, apparently oblivious to the chill in her voice. "Oh, yeah." He nodded. "There's been a change of plan. The orphanage he was going to go to had to be shut down, and, what with all the other children who had to be re-located to the local orphanages, there's no room for him anyway else. Lots of the kids have been farmed out to various care workers and social workers." Alex had to admire his telling of the story – his acting was perfect. There was no hint that he was lying at all.

"Can't they send him somewhere else?" The girlfriend, whatever her name was, said, with a wide, overly-sweet smile. "Scotland, or somewhere?"

"They try not to displace children too much." Wolf told her, gravely. "It's not good for them."

"And Scotland doesn't like taking English orphans." Snake put in. "He'd be bullied within an inch of his life."

The look the woman directed at Alex suggested that she wasn't overly bothered by that. "So," she said, through gritted teeth, "How long _is_ he going to be here?"

"About six months." Wolf said, casually. "They need to, um… re-build an orphanage for all the kids who got moved. But, you two haven't been introduced yet, have you?" Alex shrugged; the girlfriend shook her head, with a tiny, brittle smile. "OK, Alex, this is Gloria, my girlfriend. Glor, this is Alex. My, er…" he paused, fishing around for a way to describe Alex.

"Temporary extra." Eagle said, with aplomb, and a small grin at Alex. Gloria didn't seem to find it funny, and sent Alex a glare. No one seemed to notice – except Snake, who gave the woman a cool, assessing stare, which she ignored.

Alex sighed, gave her an awkward half-smile – which she also ignored – then busied himself with the cooking, so he wouldn't have to be involved in any conversations. He only really started to notice it, when Wolf, apparently noticing the tension in the kitchen for the first time, suggested that they moved into the sitting room "so they didn't bother the chef".

When the doorbell went again, Alex didn't hear it, busy as he was with cooking; a timer had gone off, masking the sound, so it was a shock for him when he looked up from checking on the meat and saw Bear stood in the doorway.

He was even bigger than Alex remembered, and he might have just said something, but Alex didn't know, given that blood was pounding in his ears, and his heart was hammering in his throat, making him feel light-headed and dizzy. As he put out a hand to steady himself, staring sickly at Bear, the man smiled at him with false kindness.

"Cub." He said, gently. Alex gritted his teeth. "How are you?"

"As good as can be expected." Alex said, hating his voice for shaking.

"Yes. So – how did this… accident happen?"

Alex didn't want to have to look at him any longer, but he didn't trust the man enough to turn away from him. He dropped his eyes, wishing that he dared to look Bear in the face, but he couldn't. "Y-you know as well as I d-do how it happened." He said, unsteadily.

"See, I haven't got a clue what you're talking about." Bear told him, idly, taking a step towards the boy. Alex stepped back and away from him. Bear grinned, and took another step forward; Alex stepped back. It ended with Bear in front of the boy, and Alex backed right into one of the corners. "I don't think you really know what happened, that night. Probably got a kick to the head, and your memories are a bit fuzzy."

Despite being scared half out of his mind, Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't think so." He said, quietly. He was about to elaborate, when a soft Scottish voice came from the doorway,

"What the hell is going on here?" Snake asked, angrily. Alex heaved a sigh of relief, and Bear took an immediate step backwards.

"Nothing." He said, but he sounded a little guilty.

"Really?" Snake said, sarcastically. "It looked a little too serious to be nothing, to me. James!" he called over his shoulder, without taking his eyes off Bear. "C'mere a second!"

James – shortly followed by Eagle – appeared in the doorway. "What's going –oh. Bear." His voice was flat and unfriendly. "I thought you were just getting a drink?"

"I thought he was taking a bit too long." Snake said, with a long glance at Bear, who shifted. "So I came to check – after our conversation earlier, I thought leaving Cub alone…"

"Yeah." Wolf nodded, walking towards Bear, and leaning against one of the counters, right next to Alex, giving his shoulder a quick, rather awkward reassuring pat. "So, _Nicholas_." He emphasised Bear's real name. "Anything you want to share with me?"

* * *

So - what did you think? Like, hate, loathe, want to rant at author for the fact that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WHATSOEVER HAPPENED? (grr) Go on - give into yourself. It's Christmas. The time to give. Give in to yourself. Give me a review.

Yep, folks, there's a reason why I'm not going into advertising.

So - have a very merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. Or, if you prefer, and very happy Christmas and a very merry new year. Or any other variations thereof. Just - not TOO merry, OK? ;-)

Lol! ami xxx


	9. Chapter 9

And in this chapter, as someone so eloquently put it, Bear becomes "So dead". So very, very dead. OR, why not to piss off four members of Britain's most elite armed force.

Oh, and, I've given up dedicating chapters to Von. I dedicate this story to her. Because, srsly, she's done almost as much as I have for it. Honestly.

Another serious vote of thanks goes out to 'the Maelstrom', who pointed out a load of mistakes I made with the SAS stuff - apologies if this is just as bad, I did try. It'll start next time I have internet connection, I promise, with the accuracy stuff! But, I'm just trying to get this up before I go back to my for the next 7 weeks.

And, on with the story...

DISCLAIMER: It was looking promising; and then, again, not so much...not mine.

* * *

"_So, Nicholas." He emphasised Bear's real name. "Anything you want to share with me?"_

Bear looked at him for a couple of seconds, then shrugged. "Nope." He said, quietly. "Why would there be?"

"The whole 'innocence' thing would be a bit more convincing if you stepped away from Cub." Eagle drawled from the doorway. Bear shrugged again, but did what was suggested. "Yeah, just like that." Eagle raised an eyebrow. "But, y'know, we already saw you do it, so, actually, still not convinced by the innocent act you've got going on here."

Wolf glared at the bigger man, and said, very, very quietly, "For the moment, I'm only going to ask you this once. Did you have anything to do with Cub getting beaten up?"

Bear shook his head. "No." he said, flatly. "Why would I?"

"You look like the sort of petty small-time bastard who'd do that sort of thing." Eagle said, pleasantly. "I mean, I was all for giving you the benefit of the doubt, but suddenly, I'm all out of my stock of goodwill."

"I didn't have anything to do with it, did I, Cub?"

Alex looked at the floor, determined not to meet anyone's eyes. "Umm…"

"Alex?" Wolf asked, almost gently. It had to be the first time that Wolf had ever spoken to him like that – as a parent figure, or at the least an adult who was taking care of him, rather than simply as an older companion. Alex couldn't say that he wasn't grateful that the man treated him as… well, if not as an equal, then at least not as a child; even now, he wasn't being stiflingly over-protective. But that didn't make it any easier to confess; in fact, it made it far, far harder. He didn't want Wolf to feel he had to protect him, as he was certain any confession would make the man feel. He knew from experience how hard it was to win this man's respect, and if he lost it, as he was sure he would, he didn't want to have to face living with someone who regarded him with contempt. So it was with a fair degree of reluctance that Alex dragged his eyes away from the floor pattern, and glanced up at him, before letting his eyes fall to the floor again.

"Yeah?" He almost whispered it.

"Did he have anything to do with it?"

"I've already said I didn't, don't you trust me?" Bear said, quickly.

"No further than I could throw you." Eagle said, with a wicked grin.

"Did it sound like I was asking you?" Wolf cut across, very quietly. "Cub?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to ask Alex here." Snake dropped in, diffidently. "I mean, _he's_ here; if he did do, Alex is bound to feel threatened."

Wolf looked at him, consideringly, then nodded, slowly. "Yeah, you're right." He agreed. There was a quick, unspoken conference as to who was going to go with Alex, and finally Eagle looked at Alex with a sigh.

"Looks like I picked the short straw." He said, theatrically, "So I'll be your councillor for today."

Alex nodded, too tense to even attempt a smile at the man's gesture towards humour. Wolf moved, so that Alex could get to the door without having to get any nearer to Bear, placing himself between them and glaring at the taller man, daring him to try something. Bear didn't.

As Alex followed Eagle out, he heard Wolf's voice, saying, without any particular emphasis, "You know, if it turns out you _did_ do something to him, you're going to wish you'd never been born."

"Didn't know that you were that fond of him." He caught Bear's answer. He didn't hear Wolf's reply, but he overheard Snake's, as the man was standing in the doorway, and far closer to Alex.

"And even if that wasn't the case, we're not fond of bullies."

At that, Alex's lips twisted wryly. Coming from a member of the group who'd spent a large part of their waking hours making his life hell when they first met, it was certainly ironic.

Eagle, who had been heading for the sitting room, apparently remembered that Gloria was in the sitting room, and, reasoning that it was probably not a good idea to talk about this in front of her, paused and looked around for somewhere to go.

"There's always my room." Alex suggested, a little reluctantly, and Eagle gave him a quick grin.

"Well, I think it's going to be either there or the bathroom, so it depends how up close and personal you want to be…"

"My room it is, then." Alex muttered, leading the way.

* * *

In his room, Eagle leant against the desk, while Alex hovered uncertainly next to his bed, hugely thankful that he always kept his room so tidy, and that he hadn't personalised the room in any way; if he had, he probably would never even have suggested going in there. Alex was nothing if not extremely private, and although he was starting to like Eagle, having someone he didn't really know in his personal area made him feel on-edge; and given the reason that they were there, he hadn't exactly been feeling comfortable to start with.

It was Eagle who broke the silence. Clearing his throat, he began, awkwardly, "So, Cub…did he do it?"

Alex looked at him for a few seconds, in silence, outwardly, totally calm, but thinking furiously on the inside. Any hesitation to answer was almost as good as an admission, but to deny it outright would insult their intelligence, as it was more than obvious that there was something going on; and he didn't want to tell Eagle the truth without knowing what the repercussions would be. On the other hand, he couldn't ask what the repercussions would be, because that was practically as good as an admission as well. After all, if Bear had done it, and Alex hadn't said, there had to have been a reason, a piece of logic Alex knew all the SAS men would grasp instantly; and if he asked about the consequences, Eagle would know why Alex had been keeping quiet, and, obviously, that he'd had something to keep quiet about. But now he'd hesitated, so Eagle already knew that something was going on. Desperately, he cast around for something to say… and came up blank. There was simply no 'safe' answer to the question he'd been put.

"Cub?" Eagle prompted, after a minute or so of silence.

Alex jumped a little, then relaxed, and said, absently, "Alex. We're not in training any more. Call me Alex."

"OK." He paused for a second or two. "You'd better start calling me Neal, then. Alex."

Alex actually made eye contact with him this time. "I suppose a surname would be pushing it, right?"

Eagle – Neal – laughed out loud. "Actually, my surname's Smith, so I'm good with handing it out." Miniscule pause. "What's yours?"

"Rider." Alex told him, with a small smile.

"Alex Rider." Neal gave him a quick lopsided grin. "I'll be sure to remember it."

"You won't be the only one." Alex muttered.

There was another rather awkward pause. Finally, Eagle said, very quietly, and with a startling degree of compassion, "Cub – Alex – you do know that if Bear _did_ do anything… no one would be blaming you. _You_ wouldn't suffer because of it."

It was an opening of sorts, Alex thought with a small sigh, and a better one than he'd expected to get. "OK…" he said, slowly, "But what would happen to him? Y'know, if he _had_ done it? Hypothetically?"

Eagle stared at him. "If he did that," he gestured vaguely at Alex's face, "To you, why the hell are you worried about what's going to happen to him?"

"It's not so much him." Alex muttered. "But, it'd be a problem for the rest of you, right?"

The tall man regarded him in silence for a few moments, before a smile slid across his face. Slowly, he began to chuckle, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "This guy beat the shit out of you, and you didn't tell us because you thought it might _inconvenience _us? Jesus, Cub."

Alex flushed, but pressed for answers regardless. "What would happen to him? If he had done it, I mean."

"I think that part's a given, don't you?" Eagle replied, absently. "Well, he'd be out of the SAS – or suspended at the very least – pending an investigation. If he's found guilty…" he paused. "Actually, you know what? I'm not really sure." His voice took on a thoughtful quality. "I mean, we don't really get told about this. I do know that a crime of violence – even just a suspicion of one, really – is enough to get you out. The government isn't too keen on handing out their top weapons to people who are possibly gonna go on a mad killing rampage with them."

"And yet, they still employ you." Alex offered, with a half-hearted smile.

Eagle grinned at him. "I think I preferred the quiet, polite Cub." He paused, obviously on the brink of saying something, then said, slowly, "Look, I don't want to push, but… _did_ Bear…I mean, I need to hear from you…"

Alex interrupted him, quickly. "If he had done, and if he did get chucked out… how much trouble would it cause for you?"

Eagle frowned, slightly, "Look, Cub, it doesn't matter how much trouble it's going to be; if he did this to you, I don't want to work with him anyway, no matter what. He's dangerous."

"But…"

Eagle sighed. "OK. Well, most of us – in fact, all of us, except Fox – are on therapy of some sort – we weren't as badly wounded as James, but… enough to need a bit of PT." he paused, bit his lip, and shrugged. "Anyway, we're just doing a lot of post-assignment stuff right now. We're not on active duty, so all that will happen is we need to find a replacement for James, maybe even just wait until he's recovered enough. To be honest, it's no trouble at all – to us. To Bear, if he did this, definitely; but I can't say that I care too much." He frowned again, but this time it wasn't directed at Alex. "Quite frankly, you think we want to go on a mission with him? He doesn't exactly exude trustworthiness, does he?"

Alex gave him a weak grin. "I guess." He thought about it for a long, long moment, then said, slowly. "OK. Um…" he paused, and gave Eagle a sideways glance. "This is really awkward, you know that?" Eagle gave him a sympathetic half-grin.

"Yeah, I bet. Look, why don't I just take it as a given that he did beat you up?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"S'OK." He hovered over what he wanted to say next, then took a deep breath, and said, quietly. "You know, Wolf's gonna kill him. He might have to fight Snake to get there first – hell, _I_ might try and get a few kicks at the bastard, if there's enough left of him – but James is going to go mad."

Alex shifted, uncomfortably. "You don't know me that well… and, I mean, I know it's not a good thing…"

Eagle stared at him. "'Not a good thing'?" he quoted, incredulously. "Cub, it's fuckin' _illegal_! It's bloody child abuse!"

"Oh. Well, even so…"

"OK, now that, see, that?" he gestured at Alex again. "_That_ makes me angry. Why aren't _you_ angry? You don't seem to think there's anything wrong! Bear beating you up is illegal, more than that, it's… it's _wrong_. I-I… I don't know how to get that through to you." He ended, sighing. "Let's just go and get this done, shall we? D'you want to stay here till it's over?"

Alex shook his head, quickly. "No. I, er… I'm not going to hide here…"

"S'not hiding." Eagle protested, weakly, but didn't bother to press the point. "Let's go."

Alex followed him reluctantly, not wanting to be left behind, as it were, but not truly wanting to go. He hovered in the doorway, as Wolf looked over at him and Eagle; his eyes rested on Alex for a moment, then he gave Eagle a hard, questioning look. Eagle just nodded.

Wolf looked at Bear, his mouth tightening with anger, eyes darkening. "So, you didn't do anything?"

Bear shrugged, would-be nonchalantly, but Alex, who was used to judging people's moods from their actions, could see the tenseness in his shoulders, and had noted the way his hands had clenched into fists instinctively after Eagle's grim nod. His hands were hanging loosely by his sides at the moment, but he was far from relaxed, despite his apparently casual manner. As Alex watched, he wiped the palms of his hands on his trousers, affecting disinterest, but the damp marks left on his trousers from his sweaty palms belied his manner.

"You didn't do anything at all?" Wolf pressed, and Bear stepped to one side, little more than a shifting of weight, but it appeared that he wasn't the only one who was fully on edge, as Wolf mirrored his actions almost immediately, and Snake and Eagle took a step towards him.

"We did say." Snake said, his Scottish accent suddenly far more pronounced, his voice hard with anger. "We said that if you'd done it, we'd make sure you regretted it."

Bear gave a sudden harsh laugh. "Over him?" he gestured at Alex, and smiled, nastily, "You've known him, what? Three days? If that?"

"We trained with him." Wolf told him, tightly. "And we're loyal to our team."

That was apparently a mistake. "So what about me?" Bear said, sweetly poisonous. "I'm part of your team."

"Really? And you've acted like it, how, exactly?" Eagle asked, lazily.

The large man's smile was feral. "Exactly as he has." He pointed out, jerking his head towards Alex. Alex frowned, sure he should feel something at the declaration, and unable to do so. While what he was saying might be true – in terms of what they'd done for the team – but the difference was, Bear was supposed to be a real member of it, rather than just an honorary one, and, in actual fact, given that Alex had trained with them, and had occasionally helped them out over the course of their training, Wolf especially, he was a far 'realer' member of their group than Bear was, or ever would be. It certainly didn't help that the man hadn't waited to gain their trust before he violated it.

Wolf bared his teeth at him. "He's a child." He hissed, and Bear gave a barking laugh, short and harsh.

"You were keen enough to point out that he didn't need to be treated like one before." He pointed out, a soft, vicious edge to his voice. "Surely he shouldn't be being treated like one now?" He looked at Alex. "I thought you were supposed to be able to stick up for yourself?" he raised an eyebrow, mockingly, and Alex shrugged. He was fed up of being scared of this man; he'd met, fought, and survived people far scarier than Bear. And he was done being manipulated by threats, when he was 'off-duty', as it were.

"We've already worked out who wins a fight between us." He said, coolly. "And losing's a little painful."

"Coward." Bear flung at him.

"Coming from the man who beats up fourteen year olds?" Alex laughed, a laugh as cold and harsh as Bear's had been, devoid of any humour. "Yeah, I can see why _I'm_ the coward." He took one step towards Bear, and stopped, looking him up and down, slowly and insultingly. "Read my file, talk to my employers, and then tell me I'm a coward." He paused, and gave the big man a lopsided, deliberately infuriating little smile. "What have _you_ done, that makes you so brave, anyway?"

Bear growled, and lunged at Alex, who sidestepped him, and he went crashing into Eagle, who reacted purely on instinct, flipping the bigger man before he had the time to adjust to his new position, and thus gain the advantage from being on top – but Bear managed to throw him off, and he hit the floor with a painful-sounding 'thud'.

Bear tried once more to get at Alex, and found his way blocked by Snake, who didn't bother trying any heroics; he just gave him a mock-regretful sigh as he kneed him in the balls. Bear went white and doubled up, so Snake broke his nose, repeating his previous move, and shoving his knee the other man's face. While Bear was distracted, swearing weakly, Wolf took advantage of it, and grabbed his arm in a half-nelson. Bear was forced upright with a half-suppressed growl of pain.

"Who's a coward now?" Alex's guardian asked, grimly. "Easy to be brave when you've got the advantage, isn't it?"

Eagle, who had long since recovered from his 'fall', stepped forward, and said, quietly, and, for once, without a trace of humour in his voice. "If you think for one moment, that we're not going to tell anyone about this, you're very, very wrong. If we're lucky, you'll get court-martialled; at the very least, you'll be chucked out of the SAS, and I'm certainly not going to be sorry to see you go."

Snake looked at Wolf. "What are we supposed to do with him now?" he asked, reasonably.

Wolf shrugged.

It turned out to be a bad move – Bear took full advantage of the momentary distraction, and made one final lunge at Alex. He didn't manage to grab him, which appeared to be what he'd intended, but one of his fists did find the boy's face, and Alex gasped in pain as it clipped his already-bruised eye. Acting purely on instinct, he lashed out, half-blind, and heard Bear grunt as his foot connected with his shin.

"You bloody brat…" he began, but decided against shouting at him, making to grab him instead, missing as Alex ducked, and obviously deciding to cut his losses. He didn't bother trying to get hold of Alex again, but made a break for it, giving the boy a rough shove as he passed. Alex stumbled backwards, and hit the door frame. Eagle and Snake followed him – Wolf stayed behind, watching Alex silently, with a serious expression, as the blond boy caught his breath.

"Don't you want to check that he's not trashing your flat?" Alex asked, quietly, once he was sure his voice wouldn't waver, careful not to make eye contact. He wasn't scared any longer, but it had been harder than he'd expected, admitting to it, and then accepting their protection, such as it was.

"If he is, I'm sure Neal and David can deal with it." He offered him a small smile, to show he was joking, but it didn't last long, and he looked at Alex seriously for a few moments more. It was the most serious Alex had ever seen him look, when they weren't arguing with each other. "I wish you'd told me." He shrugged. "I mean, I know I'm not a 'real' guardian, or whatever, but… I wish you'd told me. Why didn't you? Apart from," he swallowed, "Just not trusting me."

Alex shifted, feeling awful. He hadn't thought Wolf would care that he hadn't told him – he'd just thought that the man had wanted to know for curiosity's sake. "I…" he began, and broke off. He couldn't think of any way to say it that didn't make it sound utterly ridiculous.

"He was worried about the 'problems' it would cause us." Eagle said lightly, from the doorway. "Bear's gone, by the way. Ran out the door, tail between his legs. Well, if you count screaming obscenities at us as having his tail between his legs, he did. He sort of smashed a lamp bulb on his way out, though. Oh, and Dave's arguing with that girlfriend of yours, Nora, or Flora, or whatever."

"Gloria?" Wolf rolled his eyes at his friend, but didn't seem too annoyed. "I'll go talk to her."

Alex and Eagle watched from the door frame, at a safe distance in companionable silence, as Wolf attempted to deflect his girlfriend's rage.

"_Three quarters of an hour_, I've been sat in there waiting!" she hissed at him, poking him in the chest with a rather long-nailed finger. "I expected at least some courtesy, but with all of your _friends_ around, I suppose it was too much to expect some basic manners from you, wasn't it?!" her voice had risen to a shriek by now. "Or is it too much normally?" She didn't wait for a reply, before yelling at him. "You can call me when you want to apologise!"

She flounced out the still-open door, leaving the three men and boy staring after her in silence… which was, Alex reflected, probably exactly what she wanted.

After staring at the open door for a few seconds, someone appeared on the landing. He grinned at seeing the men staring through the open door, cocked an eyebrow, and said, wryly,

"That desperate to see me, huh?" He paused, then looked back down the stairwell, with a frown. "You know, coming up, I met this complete bitch on the stairs. Banged into me, nearly sent me flying…" he rubbed his side, "And that handbag _hurt_. She just looked me, hisses, 'men!', and walks off. Not an apology in sight! You'd think I'd done it deliberately."

Eagle, Snake and Alex exchanged glances, then tried to hide their smirks. Wolf, apparently, didn't get who Fox were talking about, and just nodded. "We've got some stuff to tell you." He said, gravely. Fox nodded. "D'you want to have a drink? And shut the door, I think we've had enough unwelcome guests." He looked at Alex. "How long till lunch?"

Unfortunately, Fox had followed his gaze, and was squinting at Alex. "Either you've got something all over your face, or…" he trailed off. Alex looked back at Wolf.

"Explanations?" he asked, in a long-suffering voice.

Wolf nodded back at him. "Explanations." He shrugged. "You'll get through it. But – who long till lunch?"

Alex started; in all the 'excitement', he'd forgotten about lunch. "Oh, shit." He whispered, and ran for the kitchen.

There wasn't any smoke coming from the oven, exactly, but there was no way there'd be enough of the burnt joint left to feed five people – as Alex reluctantly explained. Fox hadn't overtly reacted to the sight of Alex's bruised face, but Alex had noticed the way the man's face tightened a little when he looked at him.

Eagle shrugged, and slung an arm over Alex's shoulder. "So, no Sunday lunch. Who cares? I get that at my mum's, anyway. Who fancies a takeaway?"

* * *

It was a couple of hours later when Fox brought up Alex's bruised face again. They were sat in Wolf's living room, with the various cartons of Indian food on the coffee table, and plates balanced on their laps; Alex had cleared up the mess made by the various things he'd been cooking when everything had spun out of control, but it had been an almost unanimous vote not to eat at the table, so they'd ended up in the sitting room.

"Look, I don't mean to intrude, or anything," Fox looked a little wary, but still curious. "But… what happened to your face?"

Alex swallowed his mouthful, and sighed. "Bear happened." He said, shortly, and grabbed a piece of naan bread. Fox frowned.

"What d'you mean, Bear…"

"Bear beat him up." Wolf said, his voice a little tense. "But, we've dealt with that. We'll report it on Monday. Or, I'll report it. My desk-job's perfect for doing exciting things like reports." Alex watched as a small spasm of guilt passed across his face, and his guardian glanced at him. "Not that it's not important, or anything, Cub, but… y'know, it's not always exciting, right?"

Alex gave him a quick smile. "Nah, it's OK. I understand."

The black look hadn't left Fox's face. "So – when did you find out about this?" he asked, quietly.

"Today." Eagle said, reaching across him to get the pilau rice. "I mean, I'm assuming Cub knew when it happened, on Friday, but… well, he didn't tell anyone."

Fox's eyes slid back to Alex. "Why not?"

Alex mumbled something, and Eagle, who seemed to have taken it onto himself to be the official translator for him, said, casually, "Oh, he didn't want to bother us. Thought it would cause us 'trouble'." He looked over at Alex, with a grin. "Nice enough kid, our Cub, but not always the most rational of thinkers."

Alex threw a piece of naan at him. Wolf raised an eyebrow at Eagle, as he made to retaliate. "Look, Neal, Cub can get away with it, he's fourteen. You doing it? That's just sad."

"Hey, Jamie." Snake said, softly. "I've just been wondering, for a while now…. How d'you find out Bear's real name?"

Wolf shrugged. "I've got a desk job, remember? And a bit of clearance. I just – took advantage of that." His eyes flicked to Alex, and back again as he added, off-handedly, "I didn't trust him."

"Fair enough." Fox grinned. "We shoulda learnt by now that you're a pretty good judge of character."

"Yeah. Until it comes to Cub. You really misjudged that one, mate." Eagle said, sweetly. Wolf threw his cushion at him. "What, it's childish when I do it, but you can get away with it?"

"My house." Wolf smiled at him, kindly. "I'm allowed."

"I am so gonna kill you." Eagle said, with a wicked smirk. He picked up the cushion and weighed it in one hand. "Ready?"

James yawned theatrically. "I've always preferred the surprise attack, personally – but then, I guess you always were lousy at stealth exercises, weren't…" Eagle chucked the cushion at him.

Alex could tell that his guardian was inches away from declaring a full-out pillow fight, and stood up, quickly. "You might want to clear the food away, before you take that any further." He said, dryly, starting to put the lids back on the containers. Picking a couple up, he headed for the kitchen.

Back in the sitting room there were a few moments of silence. Snake, who was following Alex's example, paused in the doorway, and said, wryly,

"It's pretty sad, when, out of a group of four grown men and a teenager, the teenager is the voice of reason."

Eagle grinned.

* * *

After the pillow fight – which had involved every pillow in the sitting room, including seat cushions, and which Snake and Alex had watched from the door, in mild horror and amusement, while three fully trained elite soldiers gleefully bashed hell out of each other with fluffy cushions – the group was, once again, sat on the sofas, in various states of sleepiness.

"Hey, James." Eagle said, with a lazy smile. "What'd you mean, saying I was lousy at stealth exercises?"

Wolf shrugged. "Nothin'." There was a pause. "You've got a whole load better." Eagle didn't catch the wicked grin that went with the words.

He sat up. "OK, now I'm really worried. Am I actually bad at stealth manoeuvring?"

"No. But I had you going for a couple of seconds there, right?"

"I'd chuck a cushion at you, but something tells me we've already done that one."

"Many, many times." Snake said, with a long-suffering sigh.

"D'you remember that time in Afghanistan, when some guy threw his pillow at you, Neal, and you told him that if he ever did anything like that again, you'd kill him?" Fox asked, innocently.

Neal flushed a little. "I was having a really bad day, OK?"

"Mate, you were having a really bad week. Swear to god, you were practically PMS-ing."

"Yeah, well, at least I don't chuck grenades around like they're bouncy balls, or something." Eagle retorted, only half-serious.

"At least he doesn't scream when they go off!" Snake teased him.

"That was just the once, and it surprised me!"

"What, and you decided to scream? Like a little girl?" he prodded, grinning. "Nine, maybe ten. I'm seeing, pigtails, frilly dress."

"Bastard." Eagle replied, without heat.

"Actually, d'you remember the guy you actually _did_ kill that one ti…?" Fox began, but Wolf frowned at him, looking pointedly at Alex. Unfortunately, Alex caught the glance.

"What?" he asked, "It's not like I've never killed people before." There was a stunned silence.

"Um…" Eagle began, slowly. "Cub…"

"Actually, you know what?" Alex said, quickly, standing up, registering the change of atmosphere almost immediately. "I'm, er… I'm going to go to bed, now. Y'know, I've got school tomorrow, so, um, I'd better get going. Really. So, er… I'll see you, OK?"

"You can't leave it like that." Fox said, commandingly. "Siddown."

Alex obeyed.

"Firstly – what d'you actually _do_, for Special Ops? I mean, yeah, you got dumped in our group during training, but that's the most we got told. We know you work for MI6," he was ticking points off on his fingers, "And that you've been on three missions so far. But – what sort of missions?"

Alex looked at him, blankly. "…There're different sorts of assignments?"

Fox looked a little taken aback. "Well – yeah. I mean, there must be, right? Information gathering, semi-friendly, all that. Y'know, and there's internal stuff, because – well, MI5, y'know? But… I don't know. I wouldn't have thought they were supposed to send you on killing stuff, but I guess you must have, since you say that you've killed people."

"They didn't give me a gun, if that's what you mean." Alex said, cautiously.

"Excellent!" Eagle grinned. "Creative murder. That makes the best stories."

Wolf glared at him. "It's not murder if it's in the line of duty, Neal. _Remember_?"

Unbelievably, Eagle blushed. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Cub."

"No, that's OK." Alex said, with a small, slightly reluctant smile.

"So – what DO you do?" Snake asked, quickly, to change the subject.

He glanced at Wolf. "I work for MI6. I'm a sort of spy, I guess."

"We already knew that." Fox said, impatiently. "What's your rank? You've got to have one, right? I mean, they have ranks, don't they?" he paused, then said with a grin, "You know, I know _nothing_ about MI6. _Do_ they have ranks?"

Alex shrugged. "I guess. I-I'm a bit too young to know all that, I think. They don't really tell me much about the organisation. It's not part of the stuff I'm required to know."

"Right." Wolf was frowning. "What do you mean, you're not required to know? You need to know as much as you can about the people you work for."

Alex wavered between telling the truth about his unique situation within MI6 – which amounted to being exploited by them, rather than working for them, and meant that he was neither inside their organisation, nor outside it – and just caving, for just a few seconds. Then he shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess."

Wolf's frown deepened. "So – what sort of stuff have you done?"

"Nothing much." He passed it off. "Look, I'm tired, and I've got school tomorrow. Can I go to bed?"

"Aw, c'mon, Cub, we haven't had our bedtime story yet." Eagle's smile was distinctively mischievous. "What have you done for MI6?" He paused, "No, wait, scrap that, how many people have you killed?"

Alex was silent for a few seconds, counting it up in his head. "Umm… my first mission, the people who actually died…four. I think."

"Four?"

He bit his lip, nervously, shifting a little in his seat. "Um… yeah?"

"And what about the people who didn't die?"

"Well, the Prime Minister…"

"I'm sorry, come again?" Fox stared at him. "The Prime Minister?! _He_ knows you're a spy?"

"Yeah." Alex told him, rather reluctantly. "I think so."

"You think so? What does that mean?"

"Nothing." He could tell they were getting irritated, but he didn't know how much he was allowed to tell them. "I mean, I've met him. He knows I'm a spy."

"Oh, well, so long as _he_ knows, I guess it must be alright." Eagle said, with heavy sarcasm.

"Well, quite." Snake murmured. "So, four people died because of you on the first mission – how?"

Alex flushed. Thinking about the people he'd killed was a subject he tried to avoid thinking about, and he was regretting having ever mentioned it, but he hadn't wanted them to feel like they had to avoid certain subjects because of him. "Um…" he swallowed, reflexively. "Well, one person…" he thought of Nadia Vole's broken body, her yellow-painted lips in that endless scream, and the deadly jellyfish twined around her, with an irrepressible shudder. "It's… complicated." He finished, lamely.

"So, explain." Eagle said, seriously.

Alex flicked him a slightly nervous glance. "I-I… got caught. And they weren't happy."

"'They'?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you who they were." Alex said, awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

"Just tell us what happened." Fox said, impatiently. "You don't have to mention any names if you don't want to."

"OK. Well, I was sent to… investigate them. So, I did, but I got caught. This one woman, she came to the place where they were keeping me, and said she'd help me escape… but…" he flushed. "It's stupid."

"_What's_ stupid?"

"Th-the man I'd been sent to investigate had – he kept a Portuguese Man O'War in a tank in his office."

"Strange pet." Wolf observed, quietly.

"Yeah, I thought that." Alex said, with a small smile. "And – this woman who said she'd help me was kind of lying, and I ended up in the tank with the jellyfish."

"And how did this end up with her dying?" Fox asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd been given this cream, which eroded metal. I put that on the girders holding the glass together; the water broke her legs, and the jellyfish landed on top of her." His voice was dead. Wolf made an abortive gesture to touch him, looking rather awkward.

"I'm sorry, Alex." He said, softly.

"It's OK." He said, with a short-lived, regretful half-smile. "I… you get used to it, you know?" he took a deep breath. "Two of the others were chasing me, in jeeps. They – I – they crashed, because of something I did."

"Why didn't they catch you?" Fox asked, intently.

Alex frowned, and shrugged. "I guess, I was driving faster than they were." There were a couple of raised eyebrows, but nothing was said. Shutting his eyes briefly, he went on. "I – managed to get onto this plane. When I parachuted out of it…"

"You _parachuted_?" Wolf stared at him. "How…?"

"I did the training with you, just not the jump." Alex pointed out. "It's not too hard to work out how to do it."

"But how did you parachuting out of the plane end up with someone dying? Unless you hit them when you landed, or something…" Eagle said, with a small frown of his own.

"I'd been given…" he thought of how best to describe it. "It was – well, I guess it was a smoke bomb of sorts, except it sort of wasn't. He flew at me, and I set it off. He crashed. I expect he died."

"Where were you parachuting?"

"London."

Snake had a thoughtful expression on his face. "A couple of months ago?" Alex nodded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going. "When Herod Sayle was doing that ceremony to give away all those free laptops in the Science Museum?"

"Yeah."

"You hit the roof of the Science Museum, right?" his expression had changed to one of amusement.

"Something like that." He muttered.

"So – you're the person who shot the Prime Minister."

Alex shrugged, uncomfortably. Four pairs of eyes stared at him, questioningly, a faint hint of insuperable determination to _know_ hidden at the back. "Well… yeah."

Fox sat back. "Right. Well, I guess you got your revenge then, for him knowing that you're a spy, and all. Saves me the job, I suppose."

Eagle wasn't so easily shaken off. "That was just your first mission, right? So, how many have you been on?"

"Five, I think. Though, two of them might not count."

"Why not?"

"I really don't think I'm allowed to tell you." Alex said, apologetically.

"Cub, I'm your guardian." Wolf said, stretching, a grin on his face. "Of course you're allowed to tell me."

"Plus, you're part of our team." Fox added.

"Yeah, for ten days on a training exercise, which you spent making clear how much you didn't want me there." Alex pointed out, sarcastically. "Sure, that makes me part of this."

"Oh, no, we got _told_ that you were still a member." Fox contradicted him, triumphantly. "When you got appendicitis. Someone comes up to us and goes, 'oh, by the way, the fifth member of your team's got appendicitis'. Took us a couple of minutes to work out who the hell they were talking about, but James here figured it out quick enough."

Alex thought for a couple of seconds, confused. "Appendi… Oh. Yeah, of course. Sorry. Appendicitis."

Eagle raised an eyebrow. "How stupid d'you think we are?"

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, with a weak smile.

"I mean, d'you really think that we didn't catch that? What did you really have? SARS? Bird flu? What?"

"I wasn't sick."

"So… what was it, then?"

He sighed, defeated. "I got shot."

There was no stunned silence this time. Everyone seemed to have a question to be answered.

"Who shot you?"

"Why didn't they tell us?"

"Who shot you?"

"Where did you get shot?"

"Why didn't they tell us?"

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?" Wolf asked, last. "What if something had happened to you?! I could have really hurt you, since I didn't know that someone had _shot you_!"

Alex flushed. "I didn't think it really mattered."

"'_Didn't think it mattered'_!?" Wolf half-yelled. "You're going to be living with me for the next six months, and you didn't think that _maybe_ it was important that I know that you'd been shot?!" Snake put a calming, restraining hand on his arm. He frowned at his friend, but took a deep breath, and shut his eyes. When he opened them, he said, pseudo-calmly. "OK. Where were you shot?"

"The bullet just missed my heart." Alex whispered. "It nicked my pulmonary artery. The surgeons did a Gortex graft, and repaired my left lung, which had collapsed."

"And this happened all of a month ago?"

"Yes."

"Well, doesn't it _hurt_?"

"I've got medication for the pain." He said, in a very quiet voice.

"What about PT, is that all finished now? You don't have any more check ups, or anything?" Snake asked, rather more gently than Wolf.

He shrugged. "I don't think so. I mean, they haven't told me, if I have. Normally, I just get a phone call saying that they want to see me, but I don't know whether they've been told I'm not at my house any more. I guess MI6 would have told them if I needed more."

"Yeah, of course." Snake nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

Wolf, beside him, had gone very still. "Wait." His voice was tense, worried. "What about when Bear beat you up? Did that, y'know – damage anything?"

Alex frowned. He honestly hadn't thought about that. "I… don't think so."

"And you didn't think that it was important to get it checked? Y'know, since you might possibly, y'know, die?"

Alex bit his lip. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I just – I didn't remember it, OK? I forgot."

"You forgot. You just forgot that you got shot in the chest." Wolf repeated, incredulously.

"It doesn't hurt, OK?!"

"It doesn't hurt!? You nearly got shot! In the heart! Do you honestly expect me to believe that that doesn't hurt?!"

Alex frowned, thinking about it. "I… I guess it _hurts_… but not so much that I notice it. It's not very painful, really."

"How much pain are you used to!?" Snake said, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Some." He shifted uncomfortably. "My uncle said pain was something to be worked through, not given in to."

"Wow." Eagle sat back, raising an eyebrow. "He sounds like a laugh-a-minute sort of guy."

"He was alright." Alex excused the man. "He just – he never really wanted kids around, you know? If he had, he'd have married. As it was, I guess he kind of got stuck with me, what with MI6 just dumping me on him."

There was an uncomfortable pause; Alex bit his lip. Finally, Eagle sat forward again, and said, almost-casually.

"So… if you live with your uncle, where is he know?"

Alex swallowed. They'd never been that close, but it still hurt to say it, or even think about it sometimes. "He… he died. Nearly a year ago now."

Snake kicked his friend. "Tactless bastard, aren't you?"

Eagle shrugged him off. "And – who do you live with now?"

Alex frowned, confused as to where this was leading. "Umm… Jack. She's in America right now, with her dad. He's got cancer."

"So – if your uncle died, and you're living with a woman now… have you had The Talk?" he grinned, faintly evil.

Alex stared at him in mute horror.

* * *

So? Do tell.

Lol, ami. xxx


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry you've been waiting so long for updates; I've been having issues. Issues which come in the form of AS-level exams and revision. I know someone said 'kill all the lawyers', but could we squeeze in the examiners first?

Or, teachers are good. Let's kill them, THEN the examiners, and THEN the lawyers.

Right. OK. Focussed. Story. Let's go.

DISCLAIMER: Anthony Horowitz and I have nothing in common, except that we both write about Alex Rider. He gets paid to do it. I don't.

* * *

"Um… no." Alex said, quickly. Eagle's eyes gleamed and he suddenly realised that that was the wrong thing to say. "I mean – yes! Yes, I have had the Talk."

"You don't sound too sure…"

"I'm sure." He said, firmly. "Totally, one hundred percent sure."

"Really? Or are you just trying to evade it?" Eagle leant his elbows on his knees, and peered at him, raising on eyebrow. "I think you're just too embarrassed to say that you need to learn these things. And there's no shame in not knowing, Alex. Think how much worse it could be, if you had to admit to your girlfriend that you didn't know these things." He paused. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Neal, shut up." Wolf said, crisply. "We've got more important things to deal with than Cub's sex life. Or the lack of it. Whatever."

Alex shut his eyes, and silently wished for some sort of fatal accident to happen, while he was sat there. Something of the piano-falling-through-ceiling-and-taking-him-with-it variety. He could only hope he wasn't going bright red, but he had a feeling it was a lost cause.

"Cub, this gunshot wound of yours…"

"C'mon, Jamie, lighten up a little!" Eagle protested.

"Be serious for a while, Neal!" James retorted. "The kid got shot a month and a half ago, and you're worrying about whether he knows the ins and outs of sex?"

"It's OK." Alex intervened. "The bullet wound, I mean. Though, the, um, the sex thing is OK, too." He could have bitten his tongue out the moment he'd said it.

"More than OK, I'd have said." Eagle said, with a humorous fake-leer.

"I mean, it's… the Talk… it's OK, I don't need it…"

"Alex, I got this a month ago." Wolf said, impatiently, ignoring Eagle, and their pseudo-conversation. "And I'm going to have PT to deal with it for the next two months, at least, to make sure that it's totally healed. They should at least be helping you with your cardiovascular fitness, if nothing else, and I'm sure there's been more damage done than has been fixed, if only in muscle tone, or whatever." He looked at Snake, with faint hint of pleading in his eyes which shocked Alex no end. Apparently this revelation had shocked Wolf more than he'd expected. "Back me up here?"

"He's right." Snake said, his softly-accented voice calm. "You should have been having regular check ups. When's the last time you were seen by a doctor?"

"Um – when I got discharged?" Alex tried, uncertainly. "Is – is that bad?"

"'Is that bad'?!" Wolf quoted back at him, incredulously. "_Hijoputa_! You haven't been seen by a doctor for a month and a half, when you got _shot_ in the _heart_! I could have maybe understood not having PT – just – but, not even getting check ups…!"

Alex stared at him, puzzled. "No one else as been this worked up about this." He said, in confusion. "I don't understand why you're so – why is it such a big deal?"

Wolf stood up abruptly. "I'm going to get a drink." He said, sharply, and walked into the kitchen. Alex heard a thud, the distinctive sound of a boot kicking something wooden. He flinched, and Snake, catching the flinch, immediately stood up to go to the kitchen, before Wolf did anything serious. He gave the other two serious looks, obviously telling them to try and deal with.

The sound of muffled swearing came from the kitchen, and Alex glanced worriedly in that direction, then looked at the other two.

"I'm sorry." He said, in a low voice. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening in or anything." He paused. "I mean, I know getting shot in the chest isn't good, or whatever, but…" he shrugged, rather helplessly. "Everyone else just seems to have forgotten about it."

"Yeah. Well, James gets kind of pissy when his team gets injured."

"I'm not in his team." Alex pointed out, reasonably.

"You are and you aren't. Plus, you're a kid he's supposed to be looking after. I guess – it was just a shock, OK?" They were both looking uncomfortable. "Maybe just go in there and tell him, calmly, what he needs to know. That might work."

"OK." Alex stood up. "Thank you." He said, softly. Fox nodded, and gave him a quick grin, and Eagle waved him off, with a parting shot of,

"You know, I can still give you the Talk if you want…maybe later...?"

Alex fled.

* * *

Snake had managed to calm Wolf down almost totally by the time Alex arrived in the kitchen.

"Look, Wolf…" Alex said, slowly, leaning rather awkwardly against one of the work tops, watching the man his guardian carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, OK? But, honestly, I just forgot. I didn't mean to, keep you in the dark, or whatever."

Wolf himself took a deep breath. "Right. So, now that you've… remembered… what am I supposed to be doing about it?"

Alex shrugged. "Nothing, I don't think. I mean, Jack – my guardian," he floundered for a second. After all, technically, Wolf was his guardian at the moment, "I mean, my, er… my old guardian – she didn't do anything. And the hospital doesn't seem to think that it's very important, because I haven't heard from them since."

"Are you up to date on your tetanus jab?" The man asked, quietly.

"I – think so."

"There's no way a hospital wouldn't give him that, just in case. Not if he'd just had a gunshot wound." Snake said, quietly. "Or, at the least, they'd have checked up on it." He glanced at Alex. "You do have regular medical check ups, right?"

"Not exactly…"

"But, MI6 call you in regularly for physicals, don't they?"

"Not exactly." He bit his lip, catching their puzzled frowns. "Look, I guess I'm just too young. I mean, I guess they assume that I'm going to be going to my own GP, or whatever." He was rather reluctant to go into the details of his position within MI6 with these men, for reasons he wasn't entirely willing to clarify, even to himself.

"Good luck explaining the gunshot wound to your local doctor." Wolf muttered.

"Yeah." He said, rather awkwardly, wrapping his arms round himself.

"Right." Snake said, after a pause. "Well, what medicine are you on?"

"I can't remember." Alex admitted, very quietly. "I'll go and get it, OK?" Snake nodded, wordlessly.

There was silence in the kitchen for a few minutes, until Alex came back a few moments later, and handed a box to the sandy-haired man. Snake looked at it for a few seconds, carefully reading the label, and checking inside it.

"Codeine." He muttered to himself, frowning slightly. "I'd have prescribed something a little stronger than this for a gunshot wound, personally, but, I'm not a doctor. I guess they doctor knew what he was doing…"

"He said, he'd have recommended something stronger, and called me back more often." Alex said, softly, not wanting to interrupt the man, but not able to let that pass. "But, apparently 'someone' told him not to give me any very strong opiates, in case I got addicted to them After all, there's no one who could really regulate me for it, and MI6 couldn't afford to have me addicted to anything. He said he was taking a risk prescribing me codeine."

"Oh. Ok, then." Snake nodded, and read on in silence for a few moments. "This," he said, finally, gesturing with the instructions, "says that you should be taking it fairly regularly – every four to six hours, as you need it." He looked back up at Alex. "Why haven't you? I mean, it says it for moderate to severe pain, and I'm guessing you're feeling that."

"I…" he paused, carefully ordering his thoughts before he spoke. "Well, like the doctor said, codeine's an opiate. I didn't want to get addicted, especially not when I know that I can deal with the pain, like I do. And…" he frowned, trying to phrase what he wanted to say, "The side effects are nasty. Especially the ones which warn about light-headedness, dizziness, and drowsiness. I mean, I never know when I'm going to have to go on a mission, there's no point me being light-headed, and all the rest."

"But there is a point in you being half-crippled with pain?" Wolf asked, heavy sarcasm colouring his tone. "And…" he frowned, "Aren't you off the active duty roster anyway?"

"I'm a fourteen year old spy." Alex pointed out. "I'm not on or off any duty roster anywhere. They can't exactly put me down on any of their lists."

"Fair point." He acknowledged. "Look, Cub – after Bear, um, beat you up, and all," he was wearing a strange expression of mixed anger and guilt and awkwardness, "I'd really prefer it if you'd go down to the hospital. I'll take you to the one where you were treated before, if you want, but… you should get checked over."

Alex shrugged. "I will if it gets any worse." He agreed, and Wolf sighed, dragging a hand over his face in a defeated gesture. "But, at the moment, there's no change. There's no point going."

Snake nodded, a look of resignation on his own face, and Wolf opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it, and shrugged, said, quietly,

"OK. But, if anything even _seems_ to be wrong, we're going to the hospital."

"Why…" Alex began.

"Because, this is a gunshot wound to the chest, Cub." Wolf interrupted, shortly. "I'm not playing around with something that serious." His tone was final, and Alex couldn't be bothered to contradict him.

"Start taking these pills." Snake suggested, rather more gently, handing them back to him. "And, if I were you, I'd have a check up anyway. Just in case."

"Yeah, OK." Alex had no intention of doing it, but he nodded anyway. "Sure. I'm going to go to bed, OK?" he looked at Wolf who shrugged and nodded. "I'll do the washing up tomorrow."

"Nah, don't worry about it." Wolf waved him off. "I'll make Eagle do it."

Alex smiled a little. "OK."

"Night, Cub."

"Sleep well." Snake said, as he left. Alex shot him a quick, slightly awkward smile, surprised by his friendliness. He didn't notice Snake's watchful, assessing expression as he watched him leave.

* * *

Alex woke before Wolf the next morning, and was showered, dressed and practically ready to go before the man reached the kitchen.

Absently, he put the kettle on, and grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard, spooning instant coffee into them, trying to learn the words he'd been set for his French test. By the time Wolf walked into the kitchen, looking through the early morning post, the coffee was ready, and he silently handed it to the man, still trying to fix the French for various household objects firmly in his mind.

He was only drawn out of his revision by Wolf's voice, saying, quietly, "You didn't mention a school trip to me."

He looked up at him. "…Sorry?"

"Your school trip." Alex frowned, puzzled, and he handed over the letter he was reading. "To the Science Museum, I think."

Quickly, Alex read it through. "Yeah. This Friday." He shrugged, and handed it back. "I don't know anything about it. Maybe I missed the day when they announced it. Or maybe, they're going to tell us today."

"Probably." Wolf frowned down at it, clutching his coffee in one hand like it was a life line. After a few more minutes silence, during which Alex repeated the French for 'armchair' a couple of times in his head, and poured himself a bowl of cereal, the man sighed, and said, quietly, "Well, I guess I'd better go."

Alex nearly dropped the milk, along with his vocabulary book. "I'm sorry, what?"

"They're asking for parents or guardians to volunteer as help for this trip of yours." Wolf said, sipping his coffee. "Have you got a pen? I've got to fill this form out for you to go on this thing."

Wordlessly, Alex handed over a pen. After a couple of seconds, once he'd got his thoughts together, he said, unable to keep all the traces of shock out of his voice, "Why would you want to come one this trip, as a parent helper?"

Wolf looked up from where he was bent over the table, filling in the form. "I'm assuming everyone else at that school thinks you've had appendicitis?"

"Yes. So?"

"Well, what if something goes wrong?" Wolf asked, reasonably, handing the pen and the now-completed form back to him. Automatically, Alex put them back into his bag. "If I wasn't there, and something went wrong, there'd be no one who knew what was really happening."

"Oh…. OK." Alex said, still dealing with his surprise. "Well, um… thanks, I guess."

"S'OK. I'll apply for time off work." He flashed him a sudden, rare grin, and said, "I mean, Science Museum, or desk work? Science Museum wins hands down." Alex gave him a tentative grin in response. "And it's not like MI6 can refuse to let me have time off to do something for you, when they're the reason you're staying here."

Alex nodded. "Thanks." He repeated, softly. "I've, er… I've gotta go. See you this evening?"

"Yeah." Wolf gave him a small smile before he left.

Alex smiled back, and left, feeling almost confident in his home-situation for the first time. This didn't seem to be a flash in the pan, like the one before it had been. This time, it seemed like things might actually be bearable for the next few months.

* * *

"Alex!" Tom yelled, as he wheeled his bike into the school ground, running over to him. "So…" he skidded to a halt, and took a deep breath. "You said you'd tell me. What happened?"

"What…?"

"Your face." Tom said, looking down at him, while Alex secured his bike.

"Got beaten up."

"So you said." Tom frowned. "By who? Was it anything to do with you know what?"

"Sort of. It was someone in my guardian's SAS team."

"The SAS have teams?"

"Obviously." Alex said, standing up. "Four members in each of them. He was a temporary replacement while Wolf – my guardian – is off-duty. He got shot in the leg." He said, quickly, seeing the question on his friend's face.

"You call him 'Wolf'? Weird. Doesn't he have a name?"

Alex paused. He hadn't really thought about it, but it probably was a bit strange that he called the man who was supposedly looking after him – however unorthodox his 'method' might be – 'Wolf'. They'd mentioned it before, that he should call him 'James', very briefly, but he'd never really _thought_ about it.

"Yeah." He said, slowly. "Yeah, he does. James."

"You should probably call him that, mate. At least at school, if nothing else, or you'll be answering a lot of questions about that…"

"Yeah. Thanks, Tom." He shook himself free of his thoughts. "You'll meet him this Friday, anyway."

"I will? Sweet!" Tom grinned, practically bouncing on their way to first lesson, English. Alex hadn't used to be in the same set as Tom, but since MI6 had got their claws into him, his grades had slipped to such an extent that they were in the same set. "Why this Friday?"

"He volunteered as one of the parent helpers on this trip we're going on." Alex said, a trace of the same surprise he'd felt when Wolf had announced it still in his voice. "I don't know why. Maybe he thinks it'll be a bonding experience, or something."

"I can't wait to see our year being looked after by a member of the SAS. It'll be fun to watch, if nothing else. Do you think he'll shoot the people who annoy him too much?" Tom grinned, but by this point they were outside their English classroom, and Alex could only roll his eyes in response; they slipped inside without any further conversation.

Alex had forgotten, in the shock of this morning, about his bruises, and the reaction they were bound to illicit. So, it took him a couple of moments to work out why he was inspiring so much whispering today; until he overheard some of it.

"D'you think he couldn't pay his drug dealer back?"

"I heard his guardian beats him." Their partner, whoever it was, whispered back, and Alex couldn't stop the smirk that made its way onto his face. That would be something to tell Wolf, if he didn't think that the man would either search them out and give them a stern talking to, or calmly try to strangle the pair of them.

* * *

The first two classes went very calmly. It was the last class before break, Maths, when Alex ran into a problem.

"Alex!" his teacher called, as he was nearly out the door. He was tempted to act like he hadn't heard him, but he knew that, in the case of this particular teacher, it would just be delaying the inevitable. With a sigh, he stopped, let everyone past him, and made his way back to the teacher's desk.

"Yes, sir?" he said, forcing himself to be polite. The man's face was a mask of sympathetic sincerity, and Alex was hit by a sinking feeling. Whatever was coming next, he was not going to enjoy.

"Alex, I don't know what my colleagues would think of this," the man began, slowly, locking eyes with him, and holding out his hands, as if to show he posed no threat. Alex narrowed his eyes. It was almost as if the man was going out of his way to act like he was harmless. "But, I wanted to ask you a few questions about your home life."

Alex frowned. "Why?"

"Well," The teacher, Mr. Robinson, looked at Alex's bruised face, making a gesture designed to encompass all of his injuries. "Suddenly, a few months back, you start missing school – your grades start slipping… you come in after each absence with various fading bruises, or injuries… I'm sure you can understand our concern."

"My Uncle died a few months back, sir." Alex said, quietly. "I'm sure you can understand that I'm more than a little upset…"

"Grief doesn't cause bruises like the ones you have, Alex." Mr. Robinson said, kindly. "Who do you live with now that your uncle is dead?"

Briefly, Alex considered explaining the whole situation with Jack, and her father, and his temporary stay with Wolf, and just as quickly discarded the idea. It just wasn't worth the hassle. "My guardian – um, James." He managed to stop himself saying 'Wolf'. God only knew what repercussions that could cause. "I mean, Mr. San Luca…"

"Why do you feel like you have to call him by his surname?" Mr. Robinson's voice was coaxing, and Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"For the same reason I'd call you 'Mr. Robinson' to him. Sir." He pointed out, "You don't know him. I figured you'd want to call him by his surname."

"What do you call him, Alex?"

When did maths teachers have a side line in psychiatry, anyway? "James, sir." He told him. "After all, he's my guardian. I've been living with him for nearly a year now."

"Right. And – Alex, do you get on with him?"

Alex thought of the ten days he'd spent in Wales, with Wolf belittling him, stopping only just short of physical violence in most cases, and the immense satisfaction he'd felt at being given an excuse to kick the man out of a plane.

He was jerked back to the present by Mr. Robinson saying, quietly, "Alex?" He was met by the man's sympathetic eyes, a gentle smile on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." He said, quickly. Too quickly, he realised, as Robinson's smile became even gentler and more sympathetic. "I get on with – James, just fine."

"And how does Mr. San Luca treat you?"

Suddenly, Alex just wanted to get out of this classrooms, away from the teacher with all his innuendos of abuse, and all the suspicion of it. "He treats me just fine." He said, sharply, then realised that all he'd managed to do was make himself sound defensive.

"Right." The man nodded, gently. "So, Alex… Has Mr. San Luca ever hurt you?" Alex stared at him. "Have you ever been hurt, while in his care?"

Images of Bear's fists merged into the various incidents he'd had with pain over the last eight or so months, and he had to almost physically shake himself to be rid of them.

"Alex, I can help you." Robinson said, quietly, obviously mistaking his silence for reticence, or fear. "I can protect you…."

"He's never hurt me." He said, decisively. "James, I mean. He's never – he's never hurt me. He's done a lot for me, letting me live with him, and… and all that." He realised he'd said the wrong thing, as Robinson said, reaching new levels of gentleness, as though he was afraid that Alex was going to bolt,

"I'm going to talk to my colleagues about this, alright, Alex?"

"You don't need to do that, sir." He said, just managing to keep the desperation out of his voice. God knew what MI6 would do to keep his secret identity secret, but he had a horrible feeling that they wouldn't flinch from systematically murdering every last member of staff at Brooklands, if it came down to it. "Mr. San Luca – he's good. He's good to me, I mean." He looked at the man, and realised that he could say nothing to change his mind. Making a mental note to talk to Wolf about it, he said, abruptly. "I need to go. I'm … I'm going to be late. For my next lesson."

He didn't wait for the man's reply.

Just what he needed. Something else to deal with.

* * *

Do tell.

Ami xxx


	11. Chapter 11

Now. The bit with the Science Museum. I am, indeed, dedicated, my dear readers. I did my research. There is actually an exhibition at the Science Museum called the Science of Spying, and yes, I did go to it. It's the most childish thing I've been to since going on the "It's a Small World" Ride at Disneyland Paris. I nearly died from the overdose of "childish". I figured Alex probably would too.

Sorry for the long delay, and I hope you enjoy! And, of course, as always, thanks to all you lovely and dedicated reviewers, and I hope you all get a place in heaven. I won't see you there, but I hope you get there all the same.

After all. Good girls go to Heaven. Bad girls go EVERYWHERE. (grin)

DISCLAIMER: Anthony Horowitz is STILL refusing to sell me those bookrights, the bstrd. :D

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 11:**

Alex was cleaning the kitchen when Wolf got home that night, and he straightened, nervously, when his guardian walked into the kitchen.

"Hi." He said, rather nervously, and turned back to his cleaning.

Wolf paused, frowning slightly in puzzlement. "…Hi." He said, slowly. "Good day?"

Alex shrugged, scrubbing with the dishcloth at a particularly stubborn piece of dirt on the counter. "It was OK." He nodded. "Supper'll be ready in about ten, fifteen minutes."

Wolf nodded. "Right, thanks." He looked over at the cooker. "What is it?"

"Spaghetti Bolognese."

"Ah. Nice." He gestured at his black trousers and shirt, the nearest he got to wearing a suit. "I'm going to go and change, OK?"

Alex gave him a slightly incredulous look. "Yeah, of course."

Five minutes later, the man was back, barefoot, and wearing a pair of battered jeans and a worn T-shirt. Alex was laying the table, and said, quickly, on hearing him come in,

"I've been meaning to ask, um… d'you have any washing you want doing?"

Wolf paused on his journey over to the drawers, looking at Alex in surprise. "Um – yeah, but I just take it to the laundrette normally."

"Why?" it was Alex's turn to stare. "You've got a washing machine, I've seen it."

"Came with the flat." Wolf grunted. "I don't know how to use the damn thing." He sighed. "If you can work out how to, I'll do the washing." Alex raised an eyebrow at him, and opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it, and turned back to the table. Wolf frowned, opening one of the drawers. "Where's the spaghetti?"

"On the counter." Alex replied over his shoulder as he fetched the Worcester sauce out of one of the cupboards.

"Oh." Carefully, Wolf read the instructions, and put a pan of water on to boil, turning to find Alex staring at him, biting his lip, face worried. "What?"

Alex turned away again. "…nothing."

Wolf raised an eyebrow; like he really believed that. With a mental shrug, he said, pretending to ignore thee kid's distraction, "Right, so – how much longer?"

"Five minutes?" Alex guessed, "It's only three minute pasta."

"OK."

There was an awkward pause, during which Wolf put the spaghetti in the pan, and poured himself a glass of orange juice. In the nearly silent kitchen, it was a relief when the timer went off.

Wolf watched as the kid fiddled with his food, occasionally putting something in his mouth, but more often than not, just prodding at it, half-heartedly. For a few minutes, he tried to ignore it, but eventually, he said, quietly,

"Look, Cub, either tell me what's wrong, or eat your food, OK?" The boy looked up at him, brown eyes wary. Wolf almost sighed; he supposed it must have sounded kind of harsh. "Sorry…" he began, but Cub interrupted him.

"No, it's OK." He said, quietly. "I…it's just…. It's kind of difficult to know how to bring it up."

"Bring what up?"

"Something happened at school today…"

Wolf frowned. "Someone hurt you?" A tendril of worry – and, surprisingly, a little anger – wormed its way into his thoughts. "They didn't damage that bullet wound of yours, did they?"

The kid's laugh was humourless. "No." he said, quietly. "It's one of my teachers."

The worry was replaced with a feeling strangely like the beginnings of fury. "One of your _teachers_ hurt you?"

Alex looked up momentarily. "No!" he said, quickly. "They just – this teacher of mine – Mr. Robinson – he… he wanted to talk to me, because… hethinksyou'reabusingme."

"What?"

"I said, he thinks you're abusing me." Alex said, slowly, bright red, his eyes fixed on his plate.

Wolf froze for a second. "Ah." He said, slowly. "Right." He sat back in his chair for a second, and then said, thoughtfully. "Because of those bruises, right?"

Alex nodded, awkwardly. "I tried to say that it wasn't true, that you'd only ever been – um, kind… but, he was… it was… um – yeah. He didn't want to believe me."

"No, don't worry." Wolf said, absently. "S'not your fault – unless you smiled, nodded, and told him what a bastard I am."

Alex smiled, unwillingly. "No."

"Well, then." His guardian gave him a small smile, and forked up some spaghetti. "Don't worry about it."

"'Don't worry'?" Alex quoted back at him, incredulously. "What are we going to do about it?"

"Until they ring me?" Wolf shrugged. "Nothing. When your school gets in contact with me, we'll go in and talk to them, or whatever – and I'll mention it at work, see if there's any help we can get…" He shrugged again. "Until then, I'm just going to leave it. Oh, yeah, and try not to get beaten up again, OK, Cub?" he frowned, suddenly. "Actually, I needed to talk to you. 'Bout Bear."

Alex tensed. "Yes?"

"Snake talked to our superiors about this, and they want to talk to you – and to Bear, obviously – to get a clearer picture of what happened."

Alex swallowed, and coughed a little, frowning. He'd had an annoying, slightly painful cough for the past few days. "OK, then." He nodded. "I – yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

"Right." Wolf sighed. "They know you're staying with me, MI6 had to clear that with them beforehand, so I've no doubt they'll contact you when they want to talk to you."

"That's generally how it works with me." Alex shrugged. "Nothing new."

"Guess not." There was a pause. "So – looking forward to the trip?"

Alex poked unenthusiastically at his spaghetti. "Not really." He sighed. "It'll be the same as school always is, just in a different place." He shrugged. "At least the Museum'll be interesting. I used to go there as a kid."

Wolf nodded. "Yeah, me too." He smiled a little. "My gran used to take me."

"You like science?" Alex asked, casually, finally eating a little of the spaghetti.

"I took Chemistry at University." The man told him, quietly. "Yeah, I like science."

Alex as silent for a couple of seconds. "Wow. I – never knew that." He said, eventually.

"Didn't exactly come up, did it?" Wolf shifted, rather uncomfortably, "And unless you found out who you were staying with, and read my file, there's no way you could have done." He paused. "Unless you asked one of the others." He added, fairly.

"Yeah." Alex nodded. "So – which University?"

"Aberdeen." He said, stabbing at his pasta. "I took Chemistry with French."

"I didn't know you spoke French!" Alex exclaimed, surprised.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Well, there was no point me taking it with Spanish, was there? I'm Spanish – or, half, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess." Alex fiddled with his food for a couple of seconds longer, before finally pushing his plate away. "So, why did you go from a Chemistry graduate, to being in the SAS?"

Wolf shrugged. "I wanted to." He sighed. "And, y'know, my parents wanted me to do something respectable and safe. This was the best way to annoy them."

Alex nodded, with a small, wry smile. "Yeah." There was a few minutes of silence. "I, er… I handed in that form, for you to be one of the parent chaperones." He shook his head, disbelievingly. "I can't believe you want to chaperone for a group of kids in the Science Museum."

"Beats processing reports for MI6 while I'm off-duty any day." Wolf shrugged. "Plus, I get more time to spend with my ward." He grinned, suddenly and wickedly. "It's all in the name of adult-child bonding."

Alex shuddered.

* * *

The rest of the week passed slowly – Mr. Robinson kept giving Alex meaningful looks, so Alex kept fretting about the 'abuse' charges which he was certain were going to be levelled at Wolf any day. Snake and Wolf, between them, made certain that Alex always took his medication when he needed it, and Snake had even started a sort of basic fitness regime, to improve Alex's cardiovascular fitness, so Alex was rarely left with a moment's peace while he was at home.

His cough didn't seem to be getting any better either – and one morning he woke up with a small, brown stain on his pillow. For a couple of hours he'd been terrified, but when he started coughing a few hours later, during chemistry, he ended up with a little old blood in his hand, and figured it must simply be a latent side effect from his lung collapsing, when he was shot, or possibly the beating Bear had given him.

On top of that, of course, were the 'Bear' allegations; Alex had been called down to Credenhill, the SAS headquarters – Wolf had said that he would drive him down – the coming Saturday. What with ordinary homework and friend worries, Alex was relatively stressed by the time Friday, and the school trip arrived.

Alex had walked to school with Wolf, in silence, and Tom had stared at the man as Alex reached the gates. Wolf, obviously uncomfortable, made a beeline for the other teachers and parents who seemed be going on the trip.

"Oh. My. God." Tom said, in awe. "You brought your SAS guardian on our school trip?"

"He kind of brought himself." Alex muttered, uncomfortably, clearing his throat. "I had nothing to do with it."

"Alex, you've brought a member of the SAS on our school trip." Tom repeated, without taking his eyes off Wolf. "That is…that's _awesome_."

Alex sighed.

* * *

They got down to South Kensington by Tube, and walked down the long underground passage from the tube station to the Science Museum, on Exhibition Road – Tom ineffectually shadowed Wolf all the way. By the time they reached the actual Museum, Wolf was very aware of his small, adoring shadow, and beginning to be uncomfortable, occasionally shooting Alex glances; but Alex was having way too much fun watching the pair of them to talk to Tom.

Inside the museum, they were ushered through, quickly and quietly – obviously the teachers had booked ahead. It didn't hurt that there were very few people visiting at this particular time on a Friday morning, and the queues were relatively short.

"Before we let you have some of free time to explore the museum," one of their teachers, Miss Landingham, said, loudly, "We're going to visit the special exhibition they've got on at the moment." There was a rustle of dull excitement from the children, and Alex wondered why Wolf was looking at him so gleefully. "We'll be there for maybe an hour or so," she continued "And I'd ask you to make the most of it. It's called 'The Science of Spying'." She smiled at them, as they began to talk excitedly.

Alex stared, sickly, at Wolf, who gave him an evil grin, and turned away to talk to one of the other parents.

Payback was, as always, a bitch.

* * *

Alex stood in line, next to Tom, waiting to be allowed into the 'exhibition'. Tom kept poking him, and whispering things in his ear, like "Now, you can tell me whether they're being realistic", and "You'll feel right at home, Alex!". Alex was resisting the urge to hurt him.

"Tom." He said, eventually, firmly. "Shut up."

He was given a 'spy ID card' by a smiling woman at the black doors, which were, apparently, supposed to look ominous, and he stared at it for a couple of seconds, before shrugging, smiling back at her, and walking through the doors. He couldn't help but think that an 'ID card' would somewhat defeat the object, but then, he hadn't really been expecting any blinding realism.

For a second, he stared, totally bewildered. He'd never seen so many brightly coloured plastic objects anywhere other than a toy store. And there were most of his classmates, happily 'completing the tasks'.

"I can't believe this." He muttered, and moved forward to 'find the hidden pictures in the map'.

He was half heartedly trying to find the pictures, and wondering why on earth something like this would ever come up during a mission, when Wolf walked up, and picked up the other tool that was supposed to help finding the hidden pictures. The man was still grinning.

"I'm glad you find it so funny." Alex said, disgruntled. "It's not that amusing."

"Yeah, it really is." Wolf told him, smirking. "You look so – bored."

"Do they really think this is realistic?" Alex whispered.

"Hopefully." Wolf shrugged. "They're fourteen, they're not supposed to have an intricate knowledge of how spying works."

Alex sighed. "I know. But – honestly." He pointed over at where various members of his class were pulling on different types of costume, in order to 'blend into certain situation'. "Who's going to have a wetsuit just lying around when they need to blend in?" he paused. "Actually, y'know, why would you wear a wet-suit to try and blend in, full stop? I mean, it's not often the you have to try and blend in on a beach, and if you do… well, just go swimming, or something, you don't need a _wetsuit_."

Wolf looked at him. "Lighten up, Cub." He advised, semi-seriously, and put down the instrument, clapping Alex on the shoulder. "Have some fun."

Alex watched him go over to the costume area, and pick up a frilly chiffon dress. The other kids in his class clustered round him, daring him to put it on – as the youngest adult there by at least a decade, he'd been nominated as the 'cool' chaperone. Wolf quelled them all with a raised eyebrow, and said something, but Alex had turned away –

– coming face to face with Lucy. She grinned at him.

"I've found a camera." She told him, pointing at the map with the hidden pictures.

"I've found a camera, a notebook, and something which I think might be a three legged cat, but that could just be because I didn't look very closely."

She laughed. "Fair enough."

* * *

In companionable silence, they worked their way through the Exhibition. Alex was dismayed to find that both Lucy and Tom got extremely in to the spying thing, and Lucy confided her long term wish to work for MI6. Tom had cracked up at that, and while Lucy glared at him, Alex had smiled, weakly, and muttered something about how he was 'sure it wasn't all it was cracked up to be'.

They looked at the 'spy equipment', and Alex couldn't help but wonder whether it was just because MI6 didn't think he needed it that they hadn't given him things to bug telephones with, and thermal detectors, or whether it was because no one was given them.

He was going for the second option. And, even if people _did_ get given those gadgets, he was fairly certain that they wouldn't have 'Spyware' written on them, like a brand name. It was a little like the 'Spy ID card' thing – it kind of defeated the purpose of trying to be inconspicuous.

They had a spurious 'mission' to do – go into a certain company, and find a certain code which was scattered throughout the building. First, though, they had to choose between being 'body scanned', or 'mind scanned'. Alex chose being 'mind scanned', on the basis that it was the stupidest and most unlikely thing he'd ever heard of. By the time the second 'suspicious object' flashed up on the screen – jelly beans, this time – he was thinking things like 'ooh, look, jelly beans' very enthusiastically, to see whether it would affect the outcome of the 'mind scan'.

Apparently it did; a red notice appeared on screen, telling him to 'go to the security desk' because he had 'dangerous knowledge of dangerous objects'.

Alex did look for the security desk, to see whether he'd get handcuffed, put in a cell, then get beaten and interrogated by a mad genius trying to take over the world – after all, that was what always seemed to happen to him – but he couldn't seem to find it anywhere. He wandered through the 'mission', while Lucy and Tom desperately tried to find the answer, unable to find the heart to tell them that the keyword was seven letters long, and was actually 'company'. It hadn't taken long to work it out, after all – he was just rather disappointed that it had all been so unrealistic and boring. He'd have preferred at least something of a challenge.

But, he wasn't about to begrudge Lucy and Tom their fun, so he kept his mouth shut and let them get on with it.

For him, the only interesting thing that happened in the exhibition was when he was waiting to go through a sensor, a long sort of tunnel which he had to crouch through, or be picked up as a human.

His mind unwittingly went back to the various incidents where he'd had to crawl and crouch through something in order not to be seen, and he shook himself, listening to the conversations going on around him.

Wolf was a couple of people back to him, talking to another parent.

"…just wanted to see the Science Museum, myself!" the other parent laughed. "So – which one's yours, then?"

Alex tensed, involuntarily, only to hear Wolf say, casually, "That one." He half-turned in shock, but then it was his turn, and he was ushered through the sensor.

* * *

He was busy thinking about that – and trying not to catch Wolf's eye – while they went through the galleries on photography, and while the teacher told them about their lunch break. They had an hour free to go and get their lunch, and since Wolf seemed set to go off with the other teachers, Alex allowed Tom and Lucy to drag him off.

When they were outside, Lucy headed down the street towards the corner. She grinned at Alex. "Want a smoke?" she asked, quietly.

Alex thought about it, while Tom stared. "Alex…" he hissed, urgently.

Alex thought back on all the stress recently, and on what he'd read about tobacco being relaxing. Taking a deep breath, he said, slowly. "Yeah. Thanks."

Tom shook his head, giving Alex a disappointed frown. "Fine. You two go off and kill yourselves slowly, I'm gonna find someone else to eat with."

Alex watched him go, then turned back to Lucy. "Let's go, OK?"

"Sure." She grinned. "Let's go."

Looking back on it, Alex figured that he should have known what would happen. After all, in 'real life', he never was particularly lucky.

They'd only just started smoking when a couple of their teachers, and the parents, came round the corner. They saw them straight away.

"Lucy!" one of them gasped. "Alex? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Alex, though, was staring at Wolf, who looked furious.

Lucy dropped her cigarette instantly. "It was his idea!" she said, quickly. "He gave it to me!"

Alex didn't even have time to look incredulous, when Wolf stormed up to him, and knocked the cigarette out of his hand. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing." He said, harshly, "But, I'm going to find out."

Alex winced.

* * *

The rest of the day was too long for Alex, and far too short. He wanted to get this argument over as quickly as he could, and at the same time, he didn't want to have it at all. Wolf was polite with all the other kids, explained things when they asked him questions, but kept up a stony silence when it came to Alex.

In fact, nothing much happened for the rest of the day at all, except almost right at the end. Alex had known that there were people in his year who resented him; he missed so much school, it was easy to pick on him as someone to dislike. He'd been standing by a wall, when someone barrelled into him, falling slightly onto him. He went flying back into it, the air knocked out of him as he fell, and the boy falling on top of him. The other kid – another Alex, Alex O'Brien – put a hand on Alex's chest, pushing himself upright, with a nasty grin. His hand had been pressing on his bullet wound, and for a few moments, Alex was left gasping in pain.

His chest ached, unpleasantly, for the rest of the day.

Their journey home was totally, uncomfortably silent, Alex trying to ignore the ache in his chest, and the tenseness in the air. Once they reached the flat, he waited, as Wolf shut the door with a deliberate thud, and turned to him.

"Go – just go and wait in the kitchen, OK?" he growled, and Alex obeyed, instantly.

Wolf appeared a couple of seconds later, and glared at him for a couple of seconds. "How could you be so fucking stupid?" he said, angrily.

Alex shrugged.

"Don't damn well shrug!" he half-shouted. "This isn't a fucking game, Alex! A couple of months ago, your lung collapsed, and now you're smoking?"

Alex shrugged. After all, he didn't have anything to say, so he just kept silent.

"Answer me!" Wolf yelled at him.

"What do you want me to say?" Alex asked, tiredly.

"I want you to tell me the truth." Wolf said, roughly. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was stressed." Alex said, looking fixedly at the table.

"And you think that gives you an excuse to smoke?!" Wolf yelled in his face, leaning over Alex, hands flat on the table. Alex shrugged again, clearing his throat, awkwardly, wanting to cough, but unwilling to do so in his irate guardian's face. "Don't damn well shrug at me! You could have seriously damaged yourself!" he pushed himself upright, glaring down at the boy. "Well?"

"I don't have anything to say." Alex said, softly.

"Why the fuck not?!" he said, angrily. "You damn well should have something to say!"

"What, you want me to apologise?" Alex asked, harshly, swallowing his cough again. "You want me to tell you how sorry I am?"

Wolf glared at him. "What are MI6 gonna say about this, huh?" he said, lashing out. "Did you even think about what they can do to you for breach of contract?!"

Alex stared at him for a minute, then laughed, harshly. "Contract?!" he said, roughly, standing up and glaring right back at his guardian, still trying desperately not to cough, though he could tell it was a lost cause. "What contract?!" he coughed for a couple of seconds, tasting blood, but ignoring it. He just wished this headache would go away – and his chest was starting to really hurt… Resolutely, he straightened again, and continued, "You think I got a contract? I was lucky to get medical attention! I'm government property, Wolf, they don't need to give me a contract, they already fucking own me!"

Wolf frowned, the wind suddenly taken out of his sails. "You haven't got a contract?"

"Nope!" he said, with a bitter smile. "No contract, no paycheque, no benefits. I suppose I should be grateful they decided to patch me up at all!" he shook his head, with a bitter huff of laughter. "If they hadn't had 'further use' for me, they probably wouldn't have bothered, so you can stuff your 'breach of contract'. Was there anything else?"

Wolf stared at him for a couple of seconds, then shook himself and said, finally, rather quietly, "Do you want a drink?" He was frowning, thoughtfully, apparently wanting to think over what Alex had said, rather than continue their argument – for the moment, anyway.

Alex stared at him. "Er – yeah, sure."

He sat back down again, while Wolf put the kettle on for coffee. While it boiled, Wolf leant against the counter, crossing his arms, and saying, slowly,

"Look, Cub, I'm sorry about that. I didn't know you didn't have a contract…" he bit his lip. "We'll talk about that, later, OK?"

Alex sighed. "Yeah, sure."

"This smoking thing…" Wolf shook his head. "I – God, I just thought you were cleverer than that."

Alex shrugged. "That was the second time I'd ever done it." He coughed again, grimacing as it caught painfully in his sore chest and throat. His throat felt uncomfortably wet, so he cleared it, rather awkwardly.

"And – why did you get that girl involved?" Wolf asked, with a curious frown.

"I didn't." Alex told him. "I – she…" he flushed, not wanting to tell tales. Thankfully, Wolf caught on, his face darkening.

"She lied." Alex nodded, awkwardly. "Right. OK, then. I'm sorry I misjudged you…" Alex coughed again, the coughs tearing through him, painfully; he tuned Wolf out, unable to concentrate on what the man was saying. His chest hurt, his head hurt, and he was so tired… There was something wet in his palm, and a roaring in his ears. He felt suddenly light headed. "…not great, but – Cub? Cub, are you OK?" Alex stared at his hand, coughs subsiding somewhat. "Alex, what's wrong?"

Alex looked up at him, eyes wide and a little scared. "That never happened before."

Wolf frowned, taking an uncertain step towards him. "What? Alex?"

Alex looked back at his palm, where there was a bright red swathe of blood. Wolf grabbed his wrist, looking at his hand.

"Oh my god." He whispered.

* * *

Hah! There you go. GOD, but that was fun to write.

Lol, ami xxx


	12. Chapter 12

(sigh) I normally like to update everything at once... But this is the only thing I've finished, DESPITE all my AS Levels being over. It's very depressing. So, here, sweet readers! Have an update, and an apology for the shameless manipulation of the medical details of a pulmonary contusion. I did do some pretty damn extensive research into it, but I did end up having to twist things a bit to make them fit properly...

Oh, and the first person to work out what I changed about Chapter 11 - it's nice and obvious, I promise! - can have a drabble from me on the subject of their choice. 4 page limit. :D

Actually, speaking of drabbles, I introduce - the longest, illegal-est Authors Note in History!

PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING:

Well, you don't have to. I'd just like you to.

I have had an idea, dear readers. Now, my ideas are, I know, generally dangerous, but this particular one doesn't involve any world domination. Yet.

MWAHAHA.

Ahem.

Yes, anyway. So, I have had an idea. Feel free to flame me for arrogance if you'd like, but I wanted to see who might be interested in my brilliant new idea: the Alex Rider Cup.

Heh. Little golfing pun there. Funny? … OK, not funny. Right. Moving on.

Basically, if there is any interest in this, I'll put up – either on my userpage, or my livejournal account, depending what people would prefer – a list of story prompts for people to pick from - or, y'know, if someone else has some ideas for prompts, they can include them, too - and people pick a prompt and writes a story based around that prompt, of at least 500 words. (The word limit is subject to change – for instance, if someone says, I don't have time, can I just do a drabble, of course I'll say yes. But, if it is a drabble, it must be 100 words!) They must be beta read! I'll beta-read for anyone now that I have the whole summer ahead of me… and the deadline – which would probably be, again, pretty flexible – could be tentatively placed at, say, the 31st of August? Unless people object, I'll judge them – or maybe someone else would like to judge, so there's no bias? I dunno, feel free to suggest someone else to judge! The judging at this point is even more tenuous than the actual idea, so… yeah. Anyway. – and then announce a winner. Then, everything than could go up on fanfiction . net, and we all get a nice lot of new fics. And the prize is…guh. Um. Prestige? A picture of a cup? Being able to say you won? I dunno… (blush) I didn't quite get round to thinking up prizes…

Anyway, what do y'all think?

Basically, other fandoms have fic-challenges – why shouldn't we?

Please, say in a PM, or a review, or an email, or whatever, whether you'd be interested, and, if you don't mind, where you would hypothetically like the list of prompts to be – userpage or livejournal – and, if more than, say, five people are interested, I'll get to thinking up prompts and have them up in a few days.

Oh, and anybody who, in this possible-project, makes their fic a Mary-Sue will be laughed at. A lot. Deal?

Right. Sorry for that; onwards. :D

DISCLAIMER: (pouts) Sadly, no.

* * *

Wolf stared at the kid's palm for a couple of seconds, then looked back up at Alex, his eyes dark. "What do you mean, it hasn't happened before?" he asked, roughly.

Alex was still staring down at the blood on his hand, his eyes blank and slightly scared. "I…" he swallowed, and took a quick, shallow breath. "Normally, it's just old blood." He coughed a little again, and grimaced, apparently at the taste of blood in his mouth. Wolf handed him the mug he'd been about to pour coffee into; Alex spat into it, and the man noted, in passing, that his saliva was heavily tinged with red.

"You should have told me." He said, tightly. "Doesn't matter how old or new it is, you should have told me." He dropped the kid's wrist, and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair where he'd put it, when he was yelling at the boy.

"Where are you going?" Alex asked, in a low voice, watching him carefully.

"_We're _going to hospital." Wolf told him, firmly. "I'm willing to bet that this has got something to do with the beating Bear gave you." He frowned, darkly. "I knew I should have made you go to hospital."

"I'm OK." The kid said, and coughed, as if to disprove his point, spitting the blood out into the cup again.

"You're obviously not, Cub, now get a damn coat on."

"How am I meant to explain the bullet scar?" Cub managed to get out, around his coughing. "I can't…" he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and left a red smear on it. "I can't just wander into a hospital." He croaked.

"You were at St. Dominic's before, right?" Wolf asked, handing the kid his coat uncompromisingly. "I'll take you there, then; they'll understand."

The kid just nodded, tiredly. Wolf frowned. He shouldn't have been this tired; perhaps, blood loss? But, surely he couldn't have been bleeding into his lungs for long enough to get tired from blood loss, without drowning in his own blood.

Maybe he was just tired.

He got the kid down to his car, and made sure that he was strapped in. The kid's breathing was shallow, and he was starting to look pale; there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Worried, he ran a red light without noticing, and carried on.

He parked haphazardly outside the hospital, undid the kid's seatbelt, and ran round the other side of the car, to help him out.

The kid glared at him, muttering, hoarsely, "I can do it for myself…"

Wolf shrugged, and helped him anyway. He was sure the kid could manage on his own, but that didn't mean he had to.

The hospital entrance was brightly lit, like every other hospital entrance in London, though this one was rather more tasteful than others; in fact, it looked more like a hotel than a hospital. The receptionist looked at them, her face not exactly disapproving, but certainly rather stern.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice polite but rather forbidding.

Cub coughed, rather pathetically, the sort of unwilling cough someone gives when they know it's going to hurt. Wolf frowned.

"Yes." He told her, sharply. "Alex Rider – he was brought in a couple of months ago, I think, gunshot wound to the chest?"

She checked on her computer, and he shifted, impatiently, suddenly noticing that Cub was leaning on him far more heavily than before. His frown deepened; he didn't know what was wrong with the kid, but it had to be serious. From what he'd seen, the boy _never_ relied on others, if he could help it.

When the secretary looked up again, her eyes were sharp; whatever was written on the computer about his ward, it had awakened her to the severity of the situation, something he could only be thankful for. "What's wrong?"

"He's coughing blood." Wolf told her, as Cub obligingly demonstrated, going into a coughing fit, the sound resonating unpleasantly in his chest, a hollow deepness to it which made Wolf wince. Absently, he handed the kid a tissue from off the high-tech reception desk, and Cub shakily wiped the blood off his stained hand.

The nurse nodded, sharply. "Right." She said, and typed something into the computer. "If you'd just wait next door, someone should be with you in a few minutes."

Wolf nodded, reluctantly, and steered Cub through to the beautifully decorated waiting room. In what appeared to be a hospital tradition, it was white, but it didn't have the unflinching severity of so many other hospital waiting rooms that he'd visited over the years.

He got Cub into a seat, where the boy nodded distractedly at him, in thanks, then went back to concentrating on breathing.

He frowned, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Surely the boy shouldn't have got this much worse, so quickly? And, wouldn't he have noticed, if he'd been this bad before?

They waited for maybe fifteen minutes, before a man in a white coat approached them, smiling rather absently.

"Mr. Rider?" He said, to Wolf, turning the distracted smile onto him.

Wolf looked at him, raising one eyebrow. "Alex is my ward." He told the man – presumably a doctor – coolly. "What can you do for him?"

The doctor looked at Alex, who was taking small, shallow breaths, and was worryingly pale. "Alex Rider?" The kid glanced at him, briefly, and nodded. "You were shot in the chest about two months ago?" Again, he nodded. "Right. And apparently, you've had some – injuries – since."

"He got beaten up." Wolf said, quietly. The doctor nodded, giving him a piercing look.

"Right. Anything else we should know?"

"He mentioned that he's done this before…?" Wolf said, looking at the boy, questioningly.

"Not really." Cub rasped. "Just – old blood." He took another small gasp and continued. "I thought – thought it was just… from before." He looked up at the doctor again, and said, quietly. "From the bullet."

The doctor frowned a little. "Unlikely." He consulted the file he was holding, then glanced at Wolf. "I assume that your – company – is paying for this?"

"Yes." Wolf said, at the same time as Cub said,

"No."

Wolf frowned, as did the doctor, but they let it go for the moment. "Right." The doctor looked at Alex. "Alex, I'd like to do an X-ray on you, if that's OK?" Alex stood, swaying a little, and Wolf put a hand out to steady him. The kid gave him a half-hearted smile, and then the doctor led him away.

* * *

Wolf waited for maybe twenty minutes, before his phone rang. Irritated by the tinny ring tone, he cancelled the call, without bothering to check who was ringing. A few other people were in the waiting room now – one crying woman, with a few people sat around her, apparently members of some kind of entourage; another dark, silent woman, who seemed to be separate from the other group, and kept glancing at her watch like it was some kind of nervous habit; and a tall blond man, who was pacing nervously. For a few moments, Wolf tried to distract himself by imagining what they could be there for, but he wasn't really the imaginative sort, and his mind kept being pulled back to Cub. Eventually he gave up, and went back to brooding, silently, on the situation with his ward.

After a few more minutes dwelling on it, he tried to distract himself with some of the crappy, out-dated magazines lying around – apparently, even up-market St Dominic's had to deal with outdated magazines – and failed, and was once again fretting – no, worrying, in a totally non-parental way – about what was happening to Cub. It'd been over half an hour by now, how long did it take to do an X-ray?

By the time the doctor reappeared, Wolf was ready to climb the walls.

"Mr. Rider?"

"San Luca." Wolf corrected, tersely. "How is he?"

The doctor glanced at the other occupants of the room, who were watching with varying degrees of interest. "If you'd follow me, please – it might be better to talk about this somewhere a little more… private."

Wolf nodded, and the man led him to a small office, a few floors up from the waiting room. There, he gave him a seat, offered him coffee, then sat the other side of his desk, and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, I realise I haven't introduced myself." He began, after a short, nerve-wracking pause. "I'm Dr. John Davies, I was in charge of Alex's case last time he was here, which is part of the reason that I'm dealing with him now." He paused, then continued. "I'm not a surgeon, but I specialise in heart and lung difficulties." He looked at Wolf gravely. "Alex appears to be suffering from a fairly advanced pulmonary contusion."

Wolf frowned again; he didn't know exactly what that was – or, indeed, at all what that was – but it sounded nasty, and possibly dangerous. "What's that?"

"A pulmonary contusion is a malfunction in the alveoli." The doctor told him, slowly. "It's basically just a bruising of the lung." He explained, seeing Wolf's expression become slightly confused. "It results from the passage of a shock wave through the tissue, and it damages the air sacs, where the blood is oxygenated, causing a slow bleed into the lungs."

Wolf nodded, slowly. "And, that's why he's coughing blood?"

"Yes." Davies nodded. "They're fairly common, for someone who's suffered severe chest injuries, with an severity count of over 15, such as Alex has. Of course, in Alex's case, the contusion was triggered by the severe beating he suffered recently." He paused, giving Wolf another quick piercing glance, then looking back down at some sheets of paper that he was holding. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and neutral. "What worries me, Mr… San Luca, is that Alex's contusion shows up clearly on the X-ray…"

"Why's that a problem?" Wolf asked, quietly, frown darkening in confusion.

Davies bit his lip, then said, slowly. "Normally, due to the nature of a pulmonary contusion, there is a lag between when it first occurs, and when it begins to show up on X-ray – this lag can be anything up to 48 hours. Alex's, however, shows up clearly, which indicates to me that this is at least a few days, possibly up to a week, old. Haven't you noticed anything strange?"

Wolf shrugged, then, at the doctor's disapproving look, leant forwards, and said, quietly, "No. I hadn't noticed anything; and Alex didn't tell me anything, either. He only recently came to stay with me." He added, quickly, when the doctor seemed about to comment on that.

Davies frowned a little, but nodded. "Right." He paused, looking down at the sheet. "We're going to have to keep him in for a few days…"

"Why?"

"Pulmonary contusions generally clear up by themselves, once the patient is aware of them, and can take the proper precautions." Davies explained, softly. "However, Alex's is taking up about twenty five percent of his lung capacity at the moment, and I'm sure you understand that we want to keep him in for monitoring, and so we can be on hand in case there are any problems." He gave Wolf a quick, considering glance. "I don't want to lie to you, Mr. San Luca; the way Alex's contusion has been treated, there's a high likelihood that he could develop pneumonia, or even Acute Respiratory Disorder Syndrome."

Wolf nodded, clenching his hands in to fists, but looking away from the doctor, so the man didn't see his expression. When he looked up again, his face was blank. "But, er… is he going to be OK? In the long run, I mean?"

The man nodded. "I certainly hope so. The mortality rate from pulmonary contusions is pretty low…"

"Thank you." Wolf nodded, cutting him off before he could be told exactly how high the death rate statistic was. He found he didn't want to know, when it was Cub who was about to become part of the statistics.

For a few seconds, there was silence, until Davies said, gently, "D'you have any questions?" Dumbly, Wolf shook his head, and Davies nodded, standing up, and saying, "I expect you want to see him?"

Wolf nodded, standing too, though rather hesitantly. "Is he awake?"

"I'm fairly certain he is, yes." Davies smiled at him, suddenly absent-minded once more. "Don't worry too much, Mr. San Luca; I'm certain we can deal with this."

Wolf nodded again, and followed the man out into the corridor, where he stopped a nurse, and asked her to take him up to 'Room 36'.

* * *

Cub was propped up in large, white bed, attached to a drip, half-heartedly reading one of the out-dated magazines, looking uncomfortable and faintly bored. He started when Wolf came in, staring at him for a couple of seconds, then looking away again. He put the magazine down, closing it, and putting it carefully on the little table next to the bed, without once raising his eyes to look at his guardian.

For a few moments, a sense of awkwardness hung in the air between them. Then, finally, Wolf said,

"Well – they think you'll live."

Cub gave an unwilling huff of laughter, and winced a little as it strained his tired lungs. "That's good news, I guess." He replied, sarcastically, and Wolf smiled a little, taking the chair next to the bed.

"Yeah." He agreed, finally. "Look, Cub, I'm sorry." He added, awkwardly.

The kid frowned a little. "What for?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused. Wolf looked at him, carefully.

"For yelling at you?"

"Oh, that." Cub shrugged. "No, I understand that. I mean, you didn't know about the – well, the contract thing. And I did deserve it."

Wolf shrugged. "Well, maybe a bit, but I… overreacted." He paused, and gave Alex a warning glare. "So I'll let you off this once, but if I ever catch you doing anything like that again, I'll let Eagle dream up your punishment."

Alex winced, and there was another pause. Finally, the kid said, quietly. "Was… am I…" he swallowed, with some difficult, then said, in a rush. "Is this because I was smoking?"

Wolf stared at him. "No, of course it's not!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Alex asked, rather defensively. "I just… I had a cigarette once before…" Wolf gave him a quick, half-hearted glare, and he had the grace to blush. "And then this all started."

"OK. I understand; and, no. It's not because you were smoking. Yes, cigarettes increase your chances of getting cancer by three hundred percent, or something like…" Cub looked away, and Wolf bit his lip. Tact was not his strong point. "But two of them aren't going to do that much damage." Cub nodded, though he didn't look overly reassured. Wolf paused, for a moment, wondering what he should do next. Finally, he said, slowly, "Look, Cub…" for a second, he looked away, then looked back at the boy, and said, quietly. "You should have told me."

"Yeah." Alex looked away. "I guess I should have."

"No, you _definitely_ should have." He said, firmly. "I'm your guardian, I'm supposed to help you with things like this."

Cub just nodded, awkwardly. "I didn't want to put you in a bad position…" he said, quietly. "And – I've been pis – I mean, _passing_ blood, before, and I've always been told that it'll go away." He shrugged, rather helplessly. "I just figured that this was the same, that it'd go away."

"It's a bit different, Cub." He pointed out, rather sarcastically, and the boy nodded, rather shamefacedly. "Look – I dunno what the doctors have told you, but they want to keep you in for a while. With your chest injuries, and everything that's happened to you since – Bear, and all – they want to make sure that nothing goes wrong, OK?"

Alex frowned, slightly. "For how long? I can't miss any more school…"

Wolf frowned back at him. "I don't think you've got a choice." He told him, forbiddingly. "You're coughing blood, a quarter of your lungs are being taken up by blood, and you're at risk from pneumonia, and something called Acute Respiratory Disorder. School's not something you should be worrying about right now."

The kid stared at him. "Ah." He said, eventually. "But… Um… right. Yes. I've just – I…" he shrugged, eventually. "OK."

"What is it?" Wolf asked, with a sigh.

"My last report…" he bit his lip for a second. "Look, my last report said that I was going to fail my GCSEs if I didn't start coming to school a bit more regularly." He was deliberately not meeting Wolf's eyes. "And… I don't want to do that, you know?" he gave another little breath of laughter, apparently more to cover his awkwardness than anything else. "Else I'll have nothing to fall back on after MI6 have finished with me." He finished off with another unwilling cough.

For a couple of seconds, Wolf was taken aback by the kid's bleak outlook, albeit relieved that he seemed to have stopped – at least for the moment – coughing up blood. Finally he said, quietly. "Right. Look, I could…" he cast about for an idea, and came up blank. "I'll talk to my grandmother." He said, finally, rather reluctantly. "She might have some idea of what to do…"

Alex nodded. "Thanks." He said, quietly.

There was yet another slightly awkward pause. "So, um…. Are you OK? I mean – does anywhere hurt?"

"No." he gestured rather half-heartedly at the drip. "I think there's some sort of painkiller in there, it's helping. Plus…" he gave him a rather sarcastic smile. "I've had worse." (1)

Wolf nodded, grimly, reminded of what it was he'd wanted to talk to the doctor about it. "I bet you have." He said, rather darkly, and was about to ask another question, when a nurse came in, dressed in the obligatory white, with a no-nonsense air which was almost palpable.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to leave now, sir." She told him, firmly. "Visiting hours will be from twelve till two tomorrow, and then from four till ten."

Wolf stood, with a curt nod, giving Alex a quick, rather embarrassed smile. "Right. See you tomorrow, then." Turning back to the nurse, he said, in a low voice, "Is Dr. Davies still around?"

She looked at him, carefully. "Yes, sir. He should still be in his office, unless he's been called away."

"Thank you." He said, gave Cub a rather awkward smile, and left.

* * *

He headed up to Davies office, and knocked, firmly, only just waiting for the man to call out 'come in' before opening the door.

The man was checking something on his computer, and looked surprised to see him, but smiled politely, and said, "Mr. San Luca. Is everything alright?"

Wolf shut the door behind him, and nodded, slowly, before saying, quietly. "Doctor… about Alex's bullet wound…"

Davies frowned. "Yes?"

"He and I haven't talked much about it." Wolf admitted, awkwardly. "But, from what he said, he isn't getting much support for it. I mean – I know people who've been hurt less seriously, and are getting more treatment and help for it than he is, and I was wondering…" he shrugged, rather uncomfortably. "It seems – off. To me."

The doctor nodded, then said, softly, "Why don't you sit down, sir?" Awkwardly, Wolf sat, and Davies steepled his fingers in front of his face, and sighed. "Mr. San Luca. Alex's bullet wound was a strange case when I was first given it; Alex is, thankfully, the only minor I've ever had to treat under the jurisdiction of your – company. I can understand the reason for the secrecy; but equally, I think that secrecy has led to Alex's medical needs being somewhat ignored."

Wolf frowned, darkly. "So, he should have been having treatment?"

Davies sighed again. "I think so, yes." He paused. "It would still be beneficial for Alex to start on the sort of treatment he's been missing, even now…" he said, rather tentatively.

Wolf nodded. "Alright, then." He said, quietly. "What is this treatment?"

"Monitoring him; helping him regain cardiovascular fitness, monitoring his diet, regulating his painkillers, physiotherapy… anything he needs." Davies leant forwards, voice now eager. "St. Dominic's has an excellent rehabilitation programme for patients like Alex… I'm sure he would benefit from it…"

"How much would it cost?" Wolf asked, carefully.

Davies' face tightened. "Your company caused him to get this damage, they can damn well pay for it." He smirked, suddenly. "Plus, I doubt they're going to quibble about the money. It's a wealthy organisation, and St. Dominic's is extremely useful to them; they're not going to risk losing our services." He glanced at Wolf, sharply. "But, do try to avoid Alex getting beaten up again. The results could be disastrous."

"I'll try." Wolf murmured, rather sarcastically, standing up to leave. At the door, he paused, and glanced back at the doctor. "When will Alex need to be here…?" he began, but Davies interrupted him.

"I'll tell you when I've arranged it all." He said, gently. "Possibly when you next visit; there are various things I'll need to sort out."

"Thank you." Wolf said, rather gruffly, and left.

* * *

When he got back to his flat, he was struck by how empty it felt. Throwing it off as sentimental idiocy, he locked up and was half-way to his room before he remembered the blood-filled cup that he and Cub had left in the kitchen. Making sure it was cleaned out, he put it on the draining board, and went to bed, pretending to himself – quite successfully, in fact – that he wasn't worried about Cub, and that his flat didn't feel too empty without the kid.

* * *

The next morning, he was woken by the sound of a crash in the kitchen, and shot upright. He was almost out of his room before he remembered who it was; for a few seconds, he had been certain that it would be Cub, breaking something by mistake.

That couldn't be right, so there was only one other person it could be.

Of all the members of his team, he berated himself, he had to give a flat key to Eagle.

Yanking on some proper clothes, he stomped into the kitchen, and found the other man sweeping up the remains of the mug he'd left on the draining board the night before, while Fox was sat at the table, laughing at him.

He glared at the pair of them. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to come into other people's houses uninvited?" he asked, harshly, flicking the kettle on, and checking that there was still coffee in the mug he'd never got round to using the night before.

Fox shrugged, easily. "Might have." He agreed, cheerfully. "But, we were just checking that you were OK. After you hung up on me last night."

Wolf frowned, thinking back over the events of the night before. He did vaguely remember the telephone call, so he said, absently, "Oh. Sorry."

"Is Cub still asleep?" Eagle asked, standing up with a dustpan full off broken bits of china.

Wolf shrugged. "Don't know. Might be."

"I thought you knew everything?" Eagle said, sweetly. Wolf would have hit him, if it hadn't been so early, and hadn't required him to move.

"Cub's in hospital." He said, flatly, and turned away to make his coffee.

Eagle's mouth snapped shut. Finally, he said, quietly, and, for once, seriously, "Explain."

* * *

Well. Ahem. There you have it. Hope you liked!

lol!

-ami xxx


	13. Chapter 13

I liiiive!

And, you can't say that this isn't a quick update. Two updates in just over a week! I'm good.

Oh, about the Alex Rider Challenge thing-y. People were interested - or, at least, enough people were interested (grin) - so I'm going to put some prompts up on my userpage. I've got about thirty of 'em, give or take - once you've chosen one, could you send me a PM, just saying the number you want, and I'll remove it, so no one else picks it? Thanks!

And like I said, I'll beta for anyone who wants me to. (smile) See, aren't I nice:D

Dedicated to Von - well, the story is dedicated to Von, and I'm SURE she's getting bored of all these dedications. She should be by now. :D - and also, to everyone who's taken their GCSEs at the moment. I hope everything went well for all of you!

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, because Anthony Horowitz is clinging onto those bookrights. :P

* * *

"_Cub's in hospital." He said, flatly, and turned away to make his coffee._

_Eagle's mouth snapped shut. Finally, he said, quietly, and, for once, seriously, "Explain."_

Wolf shrugged, heading over to the fridge to get the milk. "He's got a pulmonary contusion." He told them, trying to sound off-handed, though the little knot of worry he'd been trying so hard to ignore tightened as he said it.

"James, we're not Davie. We don't understand it when you talk technical." Fox said, rather sharply.

"Yeah." Eagle agreed, voice light on the surface, but with an underlying thread of worry. "C'mon, words of less than two syllables, please."

Wolf turned to face them while the kettle boiled, and said, heavily, "When he – got shot… it damaged his lungs, right? Then when Bear beat the shit out of him," They all grimaced, "It caused further damage to them – or, it worsened the damage already caused." He shrugged. "Turns out that the kid's had a slow bleed into his lungs, for the past week or so, and he didn't tell me he'd been coughing up blood for however long, because he 'didn't want to worry me', or some crap like that." The kettle clicked off, and he turned back to make the coffee, rather grateful for the distraction.

For a couple of seconds, there was silence; then Eagle piped up. "So – Cub's coughing up blood?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, is he going to be OK?" The other man pressed, worriedly. "I mean, what… how's the hospital going to treat it?"

Wolf took a seat at the kitchen table, cupping his mug of coffee in his hands, and staring at it, rather than looking at his team mates. "I don't know, exactly." He shook his head. "I mean – shit, he's got blood taking up a quarter of his lungs, and I've got _no_ idea what they're planning on doing about it!" He glared at his coffee as if it was the sole cause of all of his problems.

"A quarter of his…" Fox stared. "Christ."

Wolf nodded, still without looking up from his mug of coffee. "Yeah. From what they've said, these things – pulmonary contusions – they usually go away by themselves, but… they want to keep Cub in for monitoring, obviously. I don't know what they're going to do about the blood that's already _in_ his lungs, but…" he broke off, taking a sip of the coffee. There was another brief pause. Eventually, Wolf himself broke it, saying, quietly, "They've said he's at risk from pneumonia at the moment – and something called Acute Respiratory Disorder Syndrome."

"What does Cub think about this?"

Wolf fiddled absently with the mug, as he said, rather vaguely. "Oh, you know… he's just being – Cub. If it's bothering him, he's not telling me."

Eagle frowned. "Yeah, I've noticed that." He said, quietly. "He doesn't… he doesn't seem to trust us much, does he?" he drew a chair out, and sat, stretching his legs out in front of him, face thoughtful. "I mean, it's not like he acts _off_, around us – just… he's…"

"Distant." Fox finished off, for him. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Wolf shrugged, and stood up. "Maybe." He put the mug in the sink, and turned back to them. "Look, I've got some time to kill…"

"What d'you mean, time to kill?!" Fox frowned up at him. "Shouldn't you go and see Cub? I mean, you _are_ his damn guardian, Wolf, you should be there…"

"Visiting hours don't start till twelve." Wolf replied, rather scathingly. "And I've got some stuff I need to sort out. You two – either go home, or play nicely."

"Since Cub arrived, it's like someone reconciled you with your sense of humour." Eagle said, rather sourly, but without malice, standing and heading for the sitting room. "The jokes you've been cracking, I can see why you fell out in the first place." Wolf just glared at him, and Eagle held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, I'm going, I'm going…"

Fox paused in the doorway. "Just out of interest…" he said, quietly, "But, what d'you need to sort out? I mean, can we help?"

Wolf paused, weighing the phone absently in one hand. "Yeah…" he said, slowly. "I'm gonna ring Dave, get him to come over – can you fill him in? And try and stop Eagle from bullshitting, I know it's hard – but don't let him tell Dave that Cub's at death's door, or something." he smiled, rather deprecatingly. "I need to sort out some stuff about Cub's school, or his schooling, or something…"

Fox nodded, and grinned back. "Sure." He turned to go, then turned back. "You know what, Jamie? It's _weird_, seeing you trying to be parental." His grin grew. "And over Cub, too…"

"Oh, just get out." He said, without much heat. Fox went with a grin.

* * *

Wolf's phone call to Snake was short and to the point, and he hung up five minutes afterwards, knowing that the other man was on his way. For a few minutes, he sat at the table, turning over the problem of Cub's schooling in his head.

It didn't make sense. Why on earth would MI6 let a kid like Alex fall behind on his school work? More to the point, why hadn't that guardian of his done something about it? None of it added up, and Wolf didn't like not understanding things like this.

As it was, though, the only solution _he_ could see was to ring up the school, and ask them to give the kid some sort of leeway – but then he freely admitted that he wasn't the most experienced of parents in that respect, and it was probably best for him to get some sort of outside perspective on this.

For a few seconds, he sat staring at the phone – then, deliberately, he punched in the numbers.

It was picked up after just a few rings, and a warm, young woman's voice said, on the other end, "Elena san Luca's house?"

"Hi, could I, er… Could I speak to Mrs. san Luca, please?" Wolf asked, rather awkwardly.

"Who shall I say is speaking?"

"Tell her it's James."

Silence for a few minutes – then an older woman's slightly accented voice picked up the phone. "_Jaime_!" she said, warmly, then immediately began to scold him. "You never call me, you never write to me – I suppose now you want something from me, hmm? Honestly, how do you expect an old woman to feel like she has lived to some purpose, if she receives no attention from her own grandson…"

Wolf grinned. "_Abuelita_."

He could hear the smile in his grandmother's voice, as she replied, rather dryly, "Now, don't try to sweet talk me, Jaime san Luca…"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Grandmother." He agreed, and she laughed.

"Well, how have you been then, _nieto_?" she asked, fondly. "…Or should I ask, _where_ have you been?"

Wolf sighed. "I can't tell you…"

"I know." She told him, "Just, reassure me it was somewhere without phones, which is why you did not ring?"

"There were no phones, _abuela_." He said, obediently. Elena chuckled.

"I don't believe you for a moment. Now, what was it that you said you wanted?" she asked.

"I didn't say I wanted anything!" he protested, weakly. "…I was _going_ to wait before I asked it of you, anyway…" he amended, rather ashamedly, at her pointed silence.

"Jaime, get to the point." She advised him, calmly.

"Well, it's a long story…" he began, and was, as he'd expected to be, interrupted.

"You haven't rung for a while, so you can make up for it now." She said, with absolute, if rather smug, composure. "I'm willing to listen to a long story."

"Um… OK. Well, um… basically, it's partly to do with my job…" he paused, and could almost feel his grandmother's impatience down the phone. It was amazing just how easily she could make him feel like a guilty fifteen year old every single time he talked to her. "They asked me to look after this – kid. Fourteen year old, called Alex…"

"A girl?" Elena asked, rather sharply. She was taking the revelation that he was looking after a child in her stride, as Wolf had known she was – it took a lot more than a sudden legal ward to ruffle her.

"No, _abuela_, a boy…"

"How was I supposed to know? People give their daughters such funny names these days…"

"Yes." He agreed, patiently.

"Jaime, be polite." She ordered, calmly. "So – what is it about this boy that you need my help with?" she paused. "Why on earth did someone leave their child with you?"

"You sound like Father." Wolf said, quietly.

"I am his mother, he learnt it from me." She smiled; it added an extra lilt her voice. "So, Jaime, what about this boy? What problem do you have with him? If you want parenting tips…"

"Not exactly, _abuela_." He paused, then went on, rather awkwardly. "He – it's complicated. The government sort of…" he paused, and sighed. "Look, Grandmother, I really can't tell you exactly what he does."

"In which case, I already have an idea what it is." Elena said, briskly. "Something for the government, you said? So… I assume it's something dangerous, if you can't talk about it?"

"Yes." He admitted, and she sighed.

"At fourteen?"

"Yes." Wolf shrugged, though he knew his grandmother couldn't see.

"How very sad." She said, quietly.

"Yes." He said, again, slightly taken aback, and continued, before she could say anything, "Look, grandmother, he's… he's in hospital at the moment, with, er… lung trouble, and something he mentioned… he said that he has problems with schoolwork."

"He's backwards?"

Wolf sighed at his grandmother's almost-defiant lack of political correctness, and said, quietly, "No, he's not 'backwards'. He's just – he misses a lot of school. Because of his job. And it worries him, and I can't think of anyway I can – help him with it."

"Have you found out whether there are certain subjects he finds difficult?" she asked, interestedly.

"Um… no?"

"Hmm. And, how about whether he has certain teachers he can trust, or he gets on well with?"

"No…"

"Ah. And, what does he think he needs the most help with? Has he talked to his teachers about giving him extra help?"

"Er… no." Wolf said, awkwardly. "I mean, I need to ask him."

Elena sighed. "Men. You can be devoted fathers, and still be totally useless at it."

Wolf baulked a little at that. "I'm not his father, he's just staying with me for a few months!" he paused. "And I'm not useless."

"It is the same thing." Elena waved his objection off, casually. "And you may not be useless, but you are _certainly_ not competent."

Wolf acknowledged that with silence.

Finally, Elena spoke up again, having apparently thought it through. "I will come and talk to this boy about it. I have a few ideas, but it would be best to talk to him about it."

Wolf paused for a second. "I don't think that's a good idea, _abuela_." He said, slowly. "I mean, moving isn't easy for you, and he's ill…"

"I'm not dead yet, James." She replied, sharply. "And, the exercise will do me good." She paused, then added, rather wickedly. "Also, I would be interested to meet this boy. I can give him tips on how to deal with you…"

Wolf sighed. "Yes, grandmother." He said, rather fatalistically. "Did you want to come to St. Dominic's Hospital at about four? I'll meet you there."

"Very well." She agreed "I will try to come up with some way of helping this boy of yours with his backwardness."

"He's not backward, grandmoth…"

"Of course not, dear!" she said, cheerfully, and hung up.

Wolf shook his head, and put the phone back on the hook.

* * *

By everything had been explained to Snake, and Wolf had jotted down a few ideas on how he could deal with Cub's education problems, it was twelve o'clock, and the rest of K-Unit insisted on coming with him to St. Dominic's, despite his vigorous assurances that it was in no way necessary.

Luckily, St Dominic's – which was a private hospital, designed to cater for the rich, or those with military connections, like Alex – was well used to having people turn up with escorts, or entourages. Cub, on the other hand, was not, and once they had all piled into his room, he said, by way of greeting, while Wolf handed over the little bag of stuff he'd brought for the kid from the flat,

"I hope you're not planning on making a habit of this."

Eagle grinned at him, from his perch on the window sill. "Why on earth not? It's fun, it's interesting, you get to watch me trying to keep my balance on this thing, and you get to watch James over there act like he's comfortable in hospitals; it's a win-win situation for you!"

"Yeah, and how am I supposed to explain it to the nurses? I mean, you don't exactly look like loving relatives of mine." he said, sarcastically. "'This is my guardian and his three very good friends'? Or, how about 'oh, yeah, sorry about them, they're SAS, they only travel in packs'?"

"Don't be daft, Cub." Fox said. He'd managed to grab the only chair in the room – though he'd had to all but wrestle Eagle for it – and was sat on it, looking rather smug. "Dominic's, from what I've heard, is used to entourages, and so on. We'll just pretend like we're your bodyguards, or something, if someone asks."

Alex frowned at him. "I can suddenly see why you're not making up the covers for people at MI6." He said, dryly, and Fox grinned, unrepentantly at him. "Honestly, 'bodyguards'. What use would a fourteen year old kid have for bodyguards?"

"You never know." Fox said, rather defensively, but didn't elaborate further.

Snake was the first one who thought to ask the traditional question. "How're you feeling?"

Alex shrugged, immediately awkward, and looked at his hands. "I'm OK." He nodded. "Tired. Throat hurts." As if to prove his point, he started coughing, and Wolf made an abortive movement towards him – but the coughing fit didn't last long, and he continued, "They've got me on something, though, which seems to be helping… And I'm so damn bored I think I might pass out just for the entertainment value – but… yeah. I'm OK. You?"

Snake smiled, rather wryly. "I'm fine. I'm not the one in the hospital bed."

"I'm only _in_ a hospital bed because _someone_ was overreacting when they brought me here." Alex said, looking pointedly at Wolf.

Wolf frowned. "It was in no way overreacting, Cub." He said, firmly.

"If you were coughing up blood, I think he's pretty damn justified for it." Eagle said, seriously, arms folded across his chest.

Cub flushed darkly. "I…" he shrugged, and said, rather awkwardly, "I'm fine."

"You will be fine." Eagle corrected, with a small smile. "At the moment, not so much."

Cub stared fixedly at his lap, still flushed. Finally, Fox broke the slightly uncomfortably silence by saying, with a grin,

"You know, Cub, you're as bad a patient as Wolf is." Even Snake grinned widely at that. Fox leant forwards, and said, in a mock-conspiratorial voice, "James here is an _appalling_ patient. For some reason, he's got it fixed in his head that getting injured makes him weak, or something like that – hospitals are things that happen to other people, for James."

Snake took over from there. "When he got that leg injury," he said, smiling rather wickedly – Wolf was now the one who was bright red, "He spent about half an hour bitching and moaning about – what was it again?" he asked Wolf, fake-considerate.

"It was a perfectly valid point!" Wolf protested.

"What was he saying?" Cub asked, curiously.

Eagle grinned at him. "He was whining…"

"…I was _not_ whining!" Wolf said, firmly, but it lacked conviction.

"He was whining," Eagle repeated, as if he hadn't heard, though his eyes were dancing, "About how he shouldn't be there because 'the threat hadn't been neutralised'."

"It hadn't." Wolf said, crossing his arms over his chest, and trying to look menacing. Normally, Wolf's menacing look had no rival, but it wasn't so effective when he was flushed bright red, and looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor.

"Wolf's excuses are lame, as well." Fox told Alex, in a stage whisper. He smiled. "See, Cub, we were dealing with a hostage situation. Wolf himself here – being paragon-ish, and a shining example of all we lesser mortals simply aspire to be – had shot the leader. After pissing him off, sure, but he did shoot him. We dealt with the rest of them, but Wolf just wouldn't damn well let it go."

"Me, I think he was sore because I had to carry him." Eagle cut in. Wolf made some indeterminate noise – which could either have signified total embarrassment, or some form of death threat, it was difficult to tell – and covered his face with one hand.

"You _carried him_?" Alex asked, incredulously.

"Yep." Eagle grinned. "Well, he had a leg wound, didn't he? He couldn't exactly walk on it. I was just being a good friend, and team mate." His grin widened. "James just – didn't see it like that."

Wolf took the hand away from his face for long enough to say, in a rather strangled voice, "I'm going to go and talk to the doctor… And, Cub? Don't believe anything these idiots tell you, alright? Nothing. Nothing at all."

Cub nodded, innocently.

Wolf had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Dr. Davies, when Wolf found him, was delighted to talk to him about Alex.

"He's doing fine." He said, calmly. "We're looking into ways to drain the excess fluid from his lungs, and I'm confident that the contusion itself is going to clear up nicely." He shrugged. "Of course, it's a little difficult to tell at the moment, until we've cleared his lungs, but I'm certain he'll be fine, Mr. san Luca."

Wolf nodded, rather awkwardly. "Good. And, the pneumonia, and the – other thing?"

"Well, there is always a risk, of course." Davies shrugged. "But, I don't think it's something you need to worry about too much. We'll keep him in for a few more days – till about Wednesday, or Thursday of this coming week – but hopefully no longer." He gave Wolf a quick smile. "Of course, I understand your concern, and it's far too early to say for definite that there will certainly be no complications, but… if things go the way they are at the moment, you can be fairly confident that there won't be any difficulties."

"Thank you." Wolf told him, carefully. "Are there any side effects I should know of?"

"Well…" Davies considered it. "I would recommend that you don't let him go back to school for little while afterwards, get him acclimatised to normal every day life. It's going to be a little difficult for him – he'll lose his breath easily, and he's probably going to find that he tires more easily, but that should, hopefully, wear off after a few days, once his lungs get used to working at full capacity again." He gave Wolf a quick, reassuring look. "Alex is an amazingly healthy teenager – he'll be fine, Mr. san Luca."

"Right." He paused. "Thank you… and, the, er… other stuff?"

"The physical therapy, and so on, for the gunshot wound?" Davies sighed. "I'm afraid to say I haven't been able to sort anything out about that yet, but I'll get in touch with you the moment I do."

"Ah. Thank you." Wolf stood, and smiled, uncomfortably. Davies nodded at him, and Wolf headed back to Cub's room.

* * *

He found Eagle and Fox stood outside, looking rather shamefaced. Wolf sighed.

"What've you done now?" he asked, exasperated.

"Nothing!" Eagle said, defensively, just as Fox said,

"Dave sent us out for being too noisy."

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked, shaking his head, and heading into the room.

Snake was talking with Cub about something in one of the textbooks Wolf had brought over with him, and grinned at him as he came in. "James. You understand Chemistry, right?"

"A bit…" he said, rather laconically, "Why?"

"_You_ can explain the Mole to Cub then, I don't get it." He relinquished his place on the chair, and, with a long suffering sigh, and a slight smile to let Cub know that he didn't really mean it, Wolf sat down, and began explaining it to his ward.

Cub, needless to say, was busy apologising for it. Wolf waved it off.

* * *

They were kicked out of the hospital at two, but Wolf was once again outside the hospital at four, when Elena arrived.

His grandmother was a small, rather frail looking old lady – her hair was, as always, in slight disarray, but she was immaculately dressed. She smiled sweetly at Wolf, before smacking him heard on the arm.

"Next time you ring, it had better not be because you want something!" she told him, firmly, leaning up and kissing him on each cheek, her actions belying the sternness of her words. "Now, where's this boy?" she looked at him, as if she thought Wolf might be somehow hiding him somewhere about his person.

"He's – just through here, grandmother." He said, smiling a little awkwardly at her. "Are you coming?"

He turned, offering her his arm through force of habit. She took it, with a little smile, of which Wolf totally missed the significance, and began firing questions at him.

"So… this boy, what's he like?"

"Oh, you know." He shrugged, rather at a loss. "He's, er… he's about – five foot six, fit…"

"Jamie, you sound like you're talking about a horse." She told him, with a sigh. "I mean, what does he like to do, is he polite, where are his parents…"

Wolf frowned a little, once again at a loss. "Um… he's – quiet?" he said, hopefully.

Elena smacked his arm again, and Wolf winced. "Is that all you know about him?" she asked, "How long has he been living with you?"

He shrugged, and pressed the button to call the lift. "Er… about a month?"

"Jaime, you are _useless_." There was a fondness to her tone which took the sting out of her words. "So, where are his parents?"

Wolf didn't answer for a couple of moments, choosing the button for Alex's floor, and waiting for the lift door to close before he replied. Then, he sighed, and admitted, "I don't know; I need to get his file out." He paused. "But I know he lives with a guardian, so I assume they're dead."

Elena made a sympathetic noise. "Poor boy. And… why did his guardian leave him with you?"

"She had to go home." Wolf shrugged.

She frowned. "And just dumped him?"

Wolf thought for a couple of seconds – he'd never looked at it like that. "Well – yes, I suppose so. Sort of." He paused. "Really, I don't know much about him, _abuela_, I need to read his file…"

"Or you could just talk to him, James." She pointed out, rather sharply, "Honestly, he's lived with you for a month, and you haven't talked about things like this?"

Wolf shifted, uncomfortably. "It never came up." He said, rather weakly.

"You should have made it come up."

"Yes, grandmother." He nodded, rather shamefacedly.

They made the short walk from the lift to Alex's room in silence. Wolf was frowning, thinking about all the things he was suddenly aware that he didn't do for the kid, as his guardian. It was amazing, how little he actually knew about the kid – and just how little time it took his grandmother to point out all of his shortcomings.

Cub was reading through one of the textbooks of again, when they arrived, and looked up with a slight look of surprise, which turned to utter shock as he saw Elena.

She smiled sweetly at him. "You must be Alex." She said, her voice warm. "James has told me all he knows about you."

* * *

There you go, then! Hope you enjoyed.

lol, ami xxx


	14. Chapter 14

And here, the long-awaited - sort of - 14th chapter of ILP. A birthday present for Von, so you've got her to thank for this! Have a great day, hon!

DISCLAIMER: You're having a laugh, right?

* * *

Alex looked at her, rather nervously, and risked a small smile. "Oh." He said, weakly. "Um… has he?"

Elena smiled. "Of course he has – though it was remarkably little." She gave her grandson a pointed look, and Wolf, leaning against the wall by the window, shrugged, rather red-faced. Alex was going to have to get tips off this woman. She smiled, leaning forwards and patting his blanket covered knee. "But I'm sure I'll get to know you much better now." The smile ratcheted up a few watts. "It's not every day that I discover that I have a brand new great-grandson."

"_Abuela_, he's not actually my son, you know that, right?" Wolf said, uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I'm only temporary…" Alex added, quickly.

Elena shot her grandson a Look, but smiled sweetly at Alex. "What a strange turn of phrase." She said, calmly. "While you're here, you're here, and just as I'm sure Jaime treats you like his son," Wolf had the grace to blush – again. "I will treat you like my grandson. Great-grandson."

"Ah." Alex, rather at a loss at how to react to such casual generosity and affection, offered her another weak smile. "…Thank you."

"It's nothing." She gave him one last smile before her expression turned serious. "Now, Alex – Jaime tells me that you're having problems with your school work?" Alex bit his lip, but nodded, slowly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of!" she was quick to assure him. "And I am sure that there is an excellent reason for it. And I am _also_ sure that I will be able to help you. So – what subject in particular are you finding difficult?"

Alex was torn between a sense of almost crushing gratitude, and heavy embarrassment. When he'd told Wolf that he was having trouble keeping up at school, he hadn't meant it as a hint, or for Wolf to feel that he had to do something about it – it had just been a fact. He was falling behind at school, and he had needed Wolf to know that at the time. "I didn't mean…" he began, voice low, face red, entire body stiff with embarrassment. "I didn't mean for you to think-"

Wolf offered him one of his lighter frowns. "Cub." He interrupted him, firmly, "If – they – aren't going to do anything to help you out with this, when they put you in this position, I will." He held up a hand to stall the argument he was pretty certain was coming. "And it's not because Im feeling all that philanthropic, either. It's just I don't want to have to waste my time helping you out later on, when you're living rough because you failed all your exams and had to drop out of school."

Alex blinked at him. "Thank you." he said, slowly. "I think."

Elena cleared her throat, loudly and obviously. "So, Alex. Which subject in particular, then?"

Alex shrugged, unconsciously playing with the sheet. "Well, languages are fine – I mean, they're skill-based, and the GCSE exam isn't that difficult – for me, at any rate." He flushed a little at that. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound arrogant…"

"Don't worry, I'm sure it's perfectly true." Elena reassured him. "Go on."

"Maths is kind of the same, and it's the easiest to catch up in, if you understand the basics…" he risked a glance up at Wolf before continuing." I guess – English, I've missed a lot, and with all the set texts and coursework, it's a lot to catch up on. But it shouldn't be too hard to catch up!" he added, quickly. "It just takes time…"

"Oh, English is never easy to catch up on without a teacher, not the way you do it here – all those silly poems and special words." Elena interrupted comfortably. "I recommend having some tutoring in that… it will help you with motivation, at least. What else?"

Alex nodded, with an uncomfortable little smile. Well, er… really, it's just the subjects where there's a lot to learn – Chemistry, Physics, Biology, History… maybe Latin, too, but not so much; that's just learning the right declensions, and all that." He looked up at her, and was startled to find that she was painstakingly noting them down in a small leather diary. "Really, I don't need a tutor!" he said, quickly. "I can teach them to myself, I just – haven't got round to it yet."

"If there's an easier path to take, for schoolwork at this stage, you should always take it." Elena advised him, with another easy smile, shutting her notebook, and slipping it back into her bag. "And it is really no problem at all, Alex – it will give an old lady something to do, which would be kind, no? I will find you a tutor, and then you can stop worrying about your schoolwork, at least." She leant forwards, and Alex met her eyes, which were surprisingly sharp, catching and holding his gaze effortlessly. "I think you have enough to worry about, hmm?"

Alex stared at her for a second, but said nothing. Elena didn't seem to expect a reply, in any case, smiling warmly at him as she sat back, saying,

"In fact, maybe it would help if some friends your age could visit you here, to help you relax… it must be difficult, having only my grandson and his friends to talk to…" she paused, and Wolf made a mental note of the suggestion. He'd found that it generally paid to listen to his grandmother's suggestions. She fixed Alex with friendly eyes, and continued, "So – since my grandson apparently knows nothing of importance about you whatsoever, tell me about yourself."

* * *

Alex was surprised, that Sunday, to find that he had another visitor, other than K-Unit, and Elena. Tom turned up at the hospital, awkwardly clutching a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk, wearing a battered old anorak and an uncomfortable expression, both of which got him curious looks from the hospital staff.

Collapsing into the chair next to the bed, and plunking the chocolate down on the table, he said, quietly, "So what's wrong with you this time?"

Alex shrugged. "Pulmonary contusion."

There was a brief pause, before Tom said, "I'm sorry, say what now?"

Alex grinned. "I've got a pulmonary contusion."

"Which is what, in English?"

"Slow bleed into my lungs." He explained, reaching for the chocolate, opening it and breaking off, before offering it to Tom. "It's all sorted – or nearly all sorted – now. But they're keeping me in to check that there aren't going to be any 'complications'." He pulled a face. "I think they're overreacting, cos I feel fine now, but…"

Tom shrugged, and paused for a moment, sucking absently on his bit of chocolate. "I don't think they can really overreact too much – I mean… you were bleeding into your lungs, so… yeah. Better safe than sorry, and all that, right?" There were a few minutes of silence before Tom spoke up again. "Are you going to be alright to play football?"

Alex almost laughed; it was strangely liberating to have to deal with such a standard, ordinary concern. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine to play football. It'd probably be good for me, actually – get me back onto my feet, and all that, get me healthy." He frowned a little. "But – how did you know to come here?"

Tom shrugged. "Your guardian rang me." He said, casually. "I think he must have got the number from your phone? Said you might 'like to see another kid'…"

Alex considered this. "That's – actually kind of scary."

"Yeah, it was." Tom agreed. "Put it this way, I didn't think I was being offered a choice on whether or not I wanted to come and see you. It was kind of like, 'go and visit Alex or die'."

"I don't mean what Wolf said was scary, I meant that the fact he rang you at all was scary." He thought it over for a few seconds. "He's been doing this whole 'parental' thing at the moment, and it's a bit… I don't really know what to do with it. I mean – he's Wolf. He's SAS. He's not supposed to do parental, you know?"

"I'll swap you for my parents, if you like?" Tom offered, half-heartedly. "They're unparental enough."

That successfully changed the subject, and when Dr. Davies appeared nearly three-quarters of an hour later, they had both managed to shake off the melancholia that had somehow managed to invade the room earlier.

"Good afternoon, Alex." He smiled at Tom. "And you are…?"

"Tom Harris. You're Alex's doctor?"

Davies nodded, as he began to check over the various machines monitoring Alex, checking the chart at the end of his bed, and asking Alex a couple of nicely impersonal questions. Tom waited patiently until it seemed like the doctor had finished his checks, before piping up.

"So – what exactly's wrong with Alex?" he asked, curiously. "He said something about a – pulmonary confusion? – but I don't get what that is… he's bleeding into his lungs?" he paused, and shot Alex an apologetic look. "Shouldn't he be, like, um… dead?"

Davies paused, also glancing at Alex. "A pulmonary contusion is a little more complicated than that, but yes. It is essentially a bleed into the lungs; Alex's was quite advanced when we caught it, but he's basically fine. Give him maybe a couple more days, and he should be fine." He glanced at Alex again, but he couldn't quite decipher what the doctor was – apparently – trying to say. "Don't worry about your friend."

He left, and Tom left shortly after that, only to be replaced by Wolf and Eagle, about half an hour later, at six. Wolf had come armed with his most impressive glower, and Eagle kept shooting his friend faintly worried glances.

Alex added his own rather wary look to the collection. "Um… hi." He tried, cautiously. Eagle gave him a grin, and Wolf nodded at him. "Is something wrong?"

"He's sulking." Eagle whispered, just a little too loudly. "And he didn't really want company coming here."

"I'm not sulking." Wolf snapped. "And I didn't not want company, I just didn't want _you_ coming along. Do you practice being irritating, or is it natural?"

Eagle shrugged. "I'll get you for that one." He promised, easily, and turned back to Alex. "So, how you doing, Cub? Anything interesting happen, recently?"

Alex cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "Yeah, cos fascinating things happen to me when I'm in hospital." He returned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What on earth could- no. I'm not saying that."

"Not saying what?" Eagle grinned. "'What could possibly go wrong?'" Alex glowered at him. "Oh, _someone's _been taking lessons from Jamie, haven't they?" he grinned, totally unaffected, "Look, Cub, I've lived with Wolf. Nothing you could do, facially, could possibly scare me. Ever."

Alex sighed. "Worth a try, though, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, maybe." Eagle leant forwards. "Look, Cub, just because you're in hospital doesn't mean you shouldn't capitalise on it – you do know that girls really go for the sick, sensitive type, don't you?"

Alex gave him a worried look. "I'm sure they do – though, I don't want to know how on earth _you'd_ know that – but I think they're probably less keen on the 'lying in a hospital bed' type." He smiled, sweetly, at the older man. "Any other useless advice you'd like to share?"

Behind Eagle, Wolf's lips twitched. It was as near to a smile, Alex knew, as Wolf was likely to get when he was in this much of a snit.

"So – why _are _you sulking?" he asked, curiously.

"'M not sulking." Wolf repeated, firmly.

"Leeds lost." Eagle explained, succinctly, reaching for a piece of the chocolate which Tom had left behind.

Alex shook his head. "Leeds always lose." Eagle grinned; Wolf winced. "What's the prob… _oh_." He looked at Wolf. "You support _Leeds_?"

Wolf shrugged, rather defensively. "I lived there for a bit when I was a kid. And they're not that bad! They're just…having a bad season."

"Bad decade, more like. When's the last time they won against any decent team?" Eagle asked, reaching for some more chocolate, before Alex slapped his hand away. "And, didn't they lose to Watford last year, playing for a Premiership place?"

"They'll get better." Wolf said, firmly.

"I didn't know they were playing this weekend?" Alex asked, curiously.

There was a brief pause, during which Eagle twisted to look at his team mate, a large, faintly evil grin spreading across his face. Finally, Wolf said, voice pained, "It was a re-run."

Alex ran through several responses to that in his head, before deciding against saying anything. There were times when it just wasn't worth it. Wolf stood up, after a brief pause, nodding at Alex, and glowering, pointedly, at Eagle.

"I'm going to go and drown my sorrows." He announced, heading for the doors, catching, as he left, Eagle's muttered remark,

"In what? We're not allowed alcohol…"

* * *

Wolf had almost reached the lift when Dr. Davies intercepted him.

"Mr. San Luca!" The doctor's smile was a couple of shades off outright friendly as he approached Wolf, tucking a clipboard under one arm and holding out his hand to shake Wolf's.

Slightly taken aback, Wolf shook his hand, and waited for the doctor to speak.

"It's good to see you again; and, just to reassure you, Alex is much better – we can probably discharge him in a couple of days, subject, of course, to regular check ups. I just thought it would be a good idea for us to talk over the plans for Alex's follow-up treatment." He gestured that Wolf should follow him to his office, warm smile firmly in place. "Shall we?"

"Let's." Wolf inclined his head, uncomfortably aware of the sarcasm he hadn't been able to purge from his tone, and hoping that the doctor hadn't picked up on it.

"I've arranged all the necessary follow-ups to Alex's injuries," he began, as they headed down the corridor to his office, "And I've worked out a provisional timetable for you to OK – if it fits for you, then I'll write Alex into those slots. Oh, do have a seat."

"What, exactly, is he having?" Wolf asked, sitting and accepting the piece of paper Davies handed to him.

The doctor took his seat behind the desk, and gave Wolf a searching look. "I don't know if you know how serious Alex's injury was, Mr. San Luca…"

"I only know what Alex's told me." He admitted, slowly, "Which isn't much. I wasn't his guardian when it happened."

"No. Well, Alex sustained major injury in two areas – one, his pulmonary artery was ruptured by the bullet, and two, the bullet punctured a lung." He paused for a second. "Alex was fantastically lucky to survive – it's entirely likely that, had he been an adult, he wouldn't have survived. As it is – well. We reinflated his lung, but it's likely to give him some trouble, as I think we've recently found. Hopefully, we're going to perform some further tests on him, to find out whether Alex is at risk from another incident like this."

Wolf frowned a little. "Do you think you can get him back to full health? I mean," he paused for a moment, framing what he wanted to say, "He's an active kind of kid," Davies allowed himself a wry little smile at that. "I can't see him being happy at having – restrictions – on what he can and can't do, you know?"

"Mr. San Luca, Alex was shot in the chest. While of course, we _hope_ that we can get him fully fit again, there are no absolute guarantees." Seeing Wolf's frown deepen at that, Davies added, reassuringly, "However, we are hopeful that he'll make a full return to health, now that he's got the appropriate help."

Wolf nodded. "And what is this 'appropriate help'?"

"Firstly, I've outlined a programme of cardiovascular training, aimed to get his heart slowly up to it's previous strength – the bullet caused it a great deal of trauma, as I'm sure you can understand – and we're going to give him physio twice a week, in order to attempt to countermand the damage that was done to the surrounding area." He slid another piece of paper across to Wolf, "That's a referral for Alex to this gym; with a hospital referral, he gets a year's membership free of charge, and help from a trainer to make sure that he doesn't overtax himself. Also, I'd recommend that he comes to a couple of our dieticians classes." Davies gave him a quick, now thoroughly-professional smile. "Is there anything here you don't like? Anything I can change for you?"

Wolf shook his head. "No – but I, er… I don't know Alex's timetable that well. You'll have to run it by him, too; make sure that everything's fine with him."

Davies nodded. "Right" he stood, and Wolf followed his example, recognising a dismissal when he saw one. "Alex will probably always feel the effects of such a major injury, Mr. san Luca, but there's no reason why they should be made worse because no one bothered to help him." The doctor said, earnestly. "I sincerely hope that we're going to be able to help."

"Yes." Wolf nodded, rather awkwardly. "Um… thank you." he shook the doctor's hand, quickly, before leaving, with another slightly uncomfortable 'thank you'.

* * *

Alex was moping. Had he been asked, he would have denied all implications of mopiness, but he _was_ honest enough to admit to himself that he was, probably, just moping. Hospitals were boring.

After Eagle had left the night before, after a long, and surprisingly mock-insult-free, adult conversation on various topics, Alex had finished the homework from the week before which Wolf had brought in, and had battled for nearly half an hour with a sheet of equations for Chemistry, involving the Mole, and something to do with calculating volume, and balancing the chemical formulae.

Now, however, by dint of begging help from one of the nurses, even that somewhat dubious entertainment was gone, and it was becoming a toss up between reading the crappy, out-dated magazines, telling him where to get a Brazilian (he'd actually started reading that article before deciding, a couple of paragraphs in, that he really, _really _didn't want to know), or reading his textbooks. Neither was exactly calling to him.

After a couple of minutes of deliberation, Alex checked the time – two o'clock, and "morning" visiting hours had just ended – and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, walking over to the little cupboard where, he vaguely remembered, his clothes had been put, freshly washed by the hospital themselves. There was a reason St. Dominic's had the reputation that it did, Alex was beginning to appreciate.

Sadly, it didn't make it any less boring.

Having found his clothes, Alex put them on the chair by his bed, and paused for a bit, leaning rather more heavily on the back of the chair than he was willing to admit. It was completely shocking, how easily he tired at the moment, and for a couple of seconds, he considered changing his mind. The crisp white sheets of the now-familiar hospital bed were looking more and more inviting.

Gritting his teeth, Alex slipped off the T-shirt that Wolf had brought him from the little flat to sleep in, and pulled on the one he'd been wearing the day he'd been brought in. He could do this.

Nearly half an hour later, Alex was fully dressed, and sat on the chair, feeling like a rag doll. He hadn't thought it was possible for him to feel this exhausted – and he didn't really think about simple things like restricted blood flow, and the hitherto ignored after effects of being shot in the chest, and then severely beaten. He just accepted as something else that had to be worked around; forcing himself to stand, he gathered up the books Wolf had brought in, and what passed for his pyjamas, slipping them into the backpack they'd come in. Checking the room once more, he pulled the backpack on, and headed down to the entrance.

"Alex Rider." He told the nurse, making sure to catch his breath before he even attempted speaking to her. The walk down here – even taking the lift – had completely robbed him of breath. The journey to Wolf's flat was suddenly looking incredibly daunting. "Um – checking out?"

"Do you have a doctor's permission, sir?" the nurse asked, voice bland and professional as she typed his name in.

"No, I'm, er – I'm discharging myself."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir…" she gave him a firm look, which he returned, equally firm.

"I didn't ask your opinion, I told you what I was doing." He replied, simply. "I'm leaving. So you can either put that into the computer, or you can ignore it, but I'm leaving either way."

She looked rather affronted, and typed something into the computer, though Alex couldn't see – and couldn't muster the energy to care – what. When she spoke again, her tone was distinctly frosty. "You're free to go, _sir_."

He offered her a calm, polite smile, and headed for the doors. Once outside, he stopped on the steps, trying to get his breath back.

Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea.

Shouldering his backpack, he made himself stand, and headed for the nearest Tube station.

* * *

Fox and Eagle got to the hospital first, at about half four. By the time Snake arrived at quarter to five, the pair of them were freaking out.

"What's wrong?" he asked, casually, a little surprised to see them waiting downstairs, rather than up in Cub's room.

"Cub's disappeared." Fox said, voice taut. "He's just – gone from his room. We think he might have been kidnapped, or coerced into leaving…"

Snake stared at him for nearly a full minute in silence, before very slowly raising an eyebrow. "And did you even think about asking for him?" he asked, quietly. The sheepish pause that followed answered his question perfectly. "Oh, for heaven's sake, how the hell did you two get into the SAS anyway?" he headed over to the secretary on duty, flashed her a quick, concerned smile, and said, politely, "I'm here for Alex Rider? He seems to be missing…"

Her face froze into harsh lines of disapproval. "Yes." She nodded, tersely. "He discharged himself earlier today. Is there a problem?" she paused and frowned at him. "If you're his guardian, try and drill some manners into him, would you? Downright rude, he was…"

Snake frowned right back at her, thanking her quickly before heading back over to the other two. "Cub discharged himself earlier today, but she," he jerked his head back to indicate the receptionist, "Said that he was 'downright rude'… doesn't sound like our quiet, polite Cub, does it?"

"You think he was coerced, then?" Fox said, a hint of triumph in his tone.

"I think he _might_ have been." Snake returned, more cautiously. "You can't let a little bit of emotional involvement cloud your judgement, Matt – we don't know what's happened, let's not go jumping to conclusions."

"I think the question is – do we ring James?" Eagle said, thoughtfully.

A moment of silence. Finally, Snake said, tentatively. "I think maybe we should wait until we've found something definite? No point worrying him about it right now, till we know what's happened… After all, Cub might just have got bored of hospital, and checked himself out, right?"

"Right." Fox agreed quickly. "Sounds like a plan."

"You just don't want to have to admit that we lost his ward." Eagle told them, with an easy grin. "But – we've got less than half an hour to find Cub before Wolf gets back to that flat of his, and from there, he'll come here, so I think you're going to find that honesty is the best policy."

"We could always go and check that Cub hasn't just gone back to the flat?" Snake suggested.

* * *

When Wolf got back to his flat, preparing to change quickly into something more comfortable and then head over to check on Cub – purely practical, it wasn't like he was _worried_ about the little brat or anything – he was surprised to find his entire team waiting for him outside the door.

Eagle shrugged, rather shame-facedly. "I left my key inside last time I was here."

"O…K…" Wolf nodded, slowly. "But why the hell are you here now?"

A brief pause. Finally, they all spoke at once.

"Well, you see…"

"It's kind of like this…"

"It's nothing to worry about, really…"

"And yet, I still don't know what 'it' is." Wolf pointed out, dryly, fishing in his pockets for his keys. "What's got you all so damn worked up?"

There was another pause, before Snake said, slowly, "Basically, Cub's missing."

Wolf blamed tiredness for the fact that he dropped his keys. "Right." He gave them each a searching look. "And he's been missing for how long, exactly?"

"Um – we only found out at about half-past four?" Fox offered, eyeing his team-mate warily, much in the same fashion as he would watch a particularly dangerous bomb that he wasn't sure was about to explode.

Wolf gritted his teeth, as he moved over to the door. "So, you're saying that my ward – my," his voice dropped in volume but, if anything, gained intensity, "My _underage MI6 agent_ of a ward, has been missing for at least an hour and a half now, and you waited this long to tell me?"

Snake shrugged, helplessly. "There was no point in telling you, we were trying to deal with it."

"Yeah, and a fine job you did of it." Wolf shot back, irritated, finally opening the door, and letting them in.

There were a few minutes silence, as they got rid of coats and, in Wolf's case, a couple of folders, in the hall way. It was Eagle who broke it, saying, rather confusedly,

"Mate, did you leave something to cook?"

"No." Wolf told him, shortly.

"Then what's that smell?"

Wolf frowned.

In the kitchen, the four of them could only stare in total disbelief at the sight in front of them. Cub was sat at the kitchen table, a couple of books spread out around him, a file open under his arms, which were currently pillowing his head, fast asleep. On the hob, a large pot of something which smelled suspiciously like curry was bubbling cheerfully. Even from the doorway, it was easy to see the pallor of near-exhaustion on Cub's face, so Wolf's response was gentler than it might have been – gentler than any of his team-mates could easily believe, in fact – as he woke the boy.

"Why, exactly, are you not in hospital, right now?" he asked, firmly, as Alex blinked blearily up at him.

* * *

Over. finito. Done. ANd it's 2.41 am exactly here, and I'm flippin' knackered, so excuse me while I go pass out somewhere.

Enjoy!

-ami zzz


	15. Chapter 15

Hi, people! I hope you're all happy and delighted to see an update of In Loco Parentis up and waiting for you!!

...that was your cue to cheer. Just so you know.

Well, it's a slight-shorter-than-normal update - I was hoping to cram rather more into this chapter, but (shrugs)... well, it means next chapter will probably be _mega_-long, cos I've got so much to cram in - because tonight I go back to my boarding school, and, as I'm pretty certain I've said several times, my school blocks both fanfiction-dot-net and hotmail, so... yeah. I figured you'd rather have short, sweet and immediate than long and long wait.

So, here you have it. I hope you enjoy it!!

DISCLAIMER: And now, a show of hands of all those who _really _believe that it's mine.

Yeah, thought not.

* * *

Alex blinked at him for a few seconds longer until his eyes focussed properly, when he looked down again, shutting the file with the stiff, economical movements of the truly exhausted. Once he'd accomplished the apparently mammoth task of gathering his books up, he glanced over at the door, and offered the other three members of K-Unit a weary smile. "Thought you'd be over." He nodded, a distinct, tired slur to his words. "I made enough for all of you." he gestured, rather half-heartedly, over to the stove.

Wolf glowered at the boy, but Snake noticed that his frown lacked any real bite. "Why aren't you back at the hospital?" Wolf asked, voice more worried than angry, but still managing to convey a good deal of 'stern'.

Alex shrugged, blinking tiredly, and shaking his head rather blankly. "I didn't need to be there." He shrugged again. "Even the doctor said so."

Wolf's frown darkened. "I'm sure he didn't, Cub." But he took the books from his ward anyway, adding, rather gruffly, "Are you hungry?"

Alex shook his head. "No." he murmured. "'M too tired…"

"Why did you cook, then?" Snake asked, casually, and Alex just looked at him, tiredly.

"Knew that you'd be hungry." He said, simply, bending – and swaying a little – to pick up one of his folders.

Wolf nodded at him, but shot Snake a worried look; Snake just shrugged, rather helpless. "OK, c'mon Cub. Let's get you to bed."

Alex managed a small, tired smile. "Don't need you to help me undress, Wolf."

The man gave him a low-level glare, practically a look of affection from him. Eagle half-smiled at that; but all the humour in the situation was stolen by seeing just how tired and frail Cub seemed.

"I know that, Cub." Wolf said, again with the sharpness at least half-dimmed. "But I figure that you'd prefer to have your books," he made a half gesture with the books he was so-casually holding, "In your room. C'mon Cub. Bed for the moment, and if you're still this bad tomorrow, I'm taking you back to the hospital."

Cub was, apparently, too tired to argue any further, simply nodding and following Wolf out of the kitchen.

Eagle headed over to the stove and turned the heat off, gingerly picking up the lid, and looking in at the contents.

"James is insanely lucky to end up with a ward who cooks this well." He offered them a half-hearted grin. "I swear, I love this kid."

Fox nodded at him, but his eyes were on Snake. "Why is he so tired?"

Snake shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I've got a vague idea…"

"'Vague idea' is better than I've got, so spill. What?"

"Well – I guess his lungs are probably finding it hard to recover from the strain…"

"H didn't seem all that tired before today…?" Eagle said, would-be casually, from his position leant against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Snake nodded, thoughtfully. "It's possible he _was_, and we just didn't notice?" he paused, before adding slowly, "But then, he took the journey back here, with lungs that aren't working one-hundred percent; and, y'know – he probably hasn't had a chance to give in to tiredness for a while. I doubt it's a trait MI6 ever encouraged, and from what he's said, he doesn't exactly get much down time – if any…"

"He doesn't?" Fox asked, concerned. "Seriously?"

Snake shook his head. "Nope. And we certainly didn't get any when we were training, and he was with us. God, I don't know if he's been able to relax since then. I mean, he's been on however many tough assignments, without rest time – and when Bear beat the shit out of him, he was on his feet the next day; I don't know many fourteen year olds who could do that. And now that he's finally got a chance to relax, it must all be catching up with him. "He paused. "And, you know, restricted use of his lungs, less oxygen, he can't do as much, and he's much more tired because if it."

Eagle nodded, silently, and when Wolf reappeared a couple of minutes later, the room was still silent.

"He's asleep." He muttered, heading for the cupboards, and pulling out four plates, glancing at Eagle and saying, a little roughly, "If you're there, you can get the knives and forks out."

Eagle grinned. "So we're staying?"

Wolf grunted. "Cub must be fuckin' psychic, he made enough for all of you. You might as well eat it."

"Oh, wow, thanks." Eagle grinned, batting his eyelids, mockingly. "I feel so loved."

"Stop fluttering at me, Neal, you look ridiculous. You're six foot two, for Christ's sake."

There was a pause, while Wolf dished up curry, with a fantastically bad grace, until Snake said, rather tentatively,

"Are you going to take him back to hospital tomorrow, then?"

The other man shrugged, rather helplessly. "I can't really do anything else, can I? He needs to be in the hospital; they know what to do with him, and I can't stay at home to make sure that he's OK."

They changed the conversation, carefully avoiding all mentions of the Cub; but the conversation was far from lively, and after helping Wolf with the washing up, they left.

* * *

The next morning, Wolf rang Eagle, having checked on Cub at seven. "Neal." he said, quietly. "I need to ask a favour."

"'Ask'?" Neal parroted back at him. "What, actually, properly, _ask_? As opposed to 'order with a please on the end'?"

"Yes, 'ask'." Wolf snapped back, impatiently.

"What?" Eagle said, less flippantly. Even he knew not to mess with Wolf sometimes.

"Can you look after Cub for me while I'm at work over the next day or so?"

"Oh – you're not taking him back to hospital?"

"He's adamant he doesn't want to go back, and knowing Cub, he'll probably just try and leave anyway; I haven't got time to deal with all of the issues. I'll go by the hospital later, talk to his doctor, but he'll probably be fine here…" Eagle could hear the faint thread of uncertainty in his team-mate's voice, and knew that Wolf was far from sure about that. "I just need someone watching him, you know?"

"Well… yeah, sure…" he said, slowly, "But, I'm not exactly the best candidate for this, am I? Can't Davie do it? Or, hell, Matt'd be better than me, I'm not exactly Mr. Child-Care..."

"I already rang Dave; he's been assigned a job for a couple of weeks. Starts today." Wolf bit out, irritated. "He can't just blow it off because of some kid he's not even related to. And Matt's got some sort of appointment for something."

"They're not court-martialling him for something, are they?" Neal asked, casually.

"I think we'd know by now, don't you?" Wolf told him, sarcastically. "Look, can you do it or not? Because I really can't leave Cub alone right now, I rang his doctor this morning; he said the Cub still needed supervision. His situation 'doesn't need medical attention, as such', but it's still serious."

"Serious?" Eagle questioned, with a slight frown. "I thought it was over…"

"Neal, he was _bleeding into his lungs_, of course it's damn well serious; it doesn't clear up in a couple of days." Wolf told him, harshly. "And he spent a week coughing up blood without telling me, does that sound like the sort of kid who's going to ring me up at work to tell me something's wrong? I really need someone there to watch him."

Eagle shrugged, though he knew Wolf couldn't see him. "Then, sure. If you think it's a good idea."

"Great; thanks. Can you be here in half an hour?"

"Yeah." Eagle began – and his team mate had rung off before he had a chance to say anything else.

* * *

When Eagle got there, Wolf was pulling on his coat to leave – he might have been SAS, but it was late October, and it was _cold_ – expression dark and faintly anxious.

"Good, you got here. Have you got your key?" Eagle held it up and shook it. "Good. You know my mobile number?"

"What do you think I am, an idiot?" Wolf gave him a long look. "Yeah, don't answer that. How is he? Is he up?"

"He's – doing alright, I suppose. And he's still in bed, though not for want of trying on his part. The doctor from the hospital – Davies, I ran checks on him, he's clean, you can trust him – is going to come round during his lunch break, at about one thirty, to check up on him. Ring me if there are any problems."

Eagle considered that. "Ri-i-ight. How long are you going to be at work for?"

"Till five. If you've got any problems, ring me. Matt might be able to get round once his appointment's over, but I don't know… I'll be back by about five thirty. If anything happens, take Cub to the hospital, OK? They'll know what to do."

"Are we talking 'relapse' happenings, or 'getting shot by anti-British terrorists' happenings, here?" Eagle asked, cautiously.

Wolf shrugged. "Either. If I'm not coming back, MI6 is going to have to organise another guardian for him, and if he's in the hospital, at least it's clear that there's something wrong." He paused. "And, if something like that _does_ happen to me, ask Snake to take the kid in, yeah? At least I know that he'll do a half-decent job."

Eagle quirked a smile at that. "Getting emotionally attached, Jamie?"

Wolf gave him a look which could have melted acid, and shrugged. "No. But the kid's MI6…"

"So he can fend for himself."

"Shut up. I was _going_ to say, he needs support. Anyway, it doesn't matter; nothing will happen, and I'm going to be late."

"Jamie, if you just jinxed yourself, and you die today, I'll kill you myself."

"Shut up, Neal." With that affectionate farewell, Wolf disappeared.

* * *

Eagle mooched around Wolf's flat for the nearly three quarters of an hour before Cub appeared in the hallway. The kid looked exhausted, unnaturally pale, hair still rumpled. He was still in what Eagle assumed were his pyjamas, a pair of dark blue, sleep-softened pyjama trousers and an enormous T-shirt which was slipping off one shoulder; he looked, and Eagle winced at even thinking it, offensively cute.

"Cub!" he announced, joyfully, bounding out of the sitting room to greet him. "My man! How are you?"

"God, what did I do to deserve you this early in the morning?" Cub half-rasped, half-moaned. "And before coffee, too."

Eagle grinned, but faked hurt. "Don't you love me anymore?"

Cub told him, in no uncertain terms, just how little affection he had for him, and stumbled from the hallway to the kitchen to make coffee. "You want one?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Cub drank his coffee strong, black and hot, this early in the morning, Eagle discovered – though maybe that was simply a reaction to having next to no energy and an essentially hyperactive adult babysitter.

"So…" Cub started up, voice still a little rough, once the coffee was made, and he was sat at the table, mug cupped in his hands for warmth. "Why did you pull the short straw?"

"Say what now?" Eagle asked, confused. "What 'short straw'?"

"The 'babysitting Alex' short straw."

"That's not a short straw, Cub…"

"Right, and you were really keen and eager to get here, I bet." Cub said, one eyebrow raised – an expression which was definitely gaining an edge from being nearly-constantly exposed to Wolf, Eagle noticed, with amusement – taking a sip of coffee. "This is exactly how you wanted to spend your day, right?"

"Well, I didn't have anything planned." Eagle shrugged, calmly, sipping his own milky coffee. "This sis the longest leave I've had – ever. Even when I was in the regular army. They don't like splitting the teams up, y'see, and – well. Doing nothing gets dull after a time."

Alex simply shrugged. "Right, OK…"

"Seriously, Cub." He paused, and grinned. "Plus, it gives me a great chance to spend a day tormenting you."

Cub let his head fall onto his arms. "Oh, brilliant."

* * *

Alex stumbled back to his bedroom, only slightly fortified by the coffee he'd just drunk, knowing that he was still behind on work, and would have to spend his free day – which was a God-send in certain ways, if it hadn't been for the whole 'bleeding into his lungs' thing – catching up on the work he'd missed over the last year or so that he'd been working for MI6. That wasn't a problem – as Ian's nephew, he was far from a stranger to hard work, and Ian had insisted that he develop a decent work ethic at an early age – but he found it next to impossible to work in his room; the noise from the road, combined with a slightly-too-small desk, meant that there were too many distractions in his room, and, given the choice, he would work in the kitchen. He and Wolf had worked out a system for this, and Alex would do the greater part of his homework before Wolf got home, and do it while he cooked; whatever else was left over, he could do it afterwards, while Wolf – did whatever it was he did in the afternoon.

But Eagle was here today, and Alex was far too used to the man – now – to think that he would leave him alone to get it done.

Finally, showered and dressed, he surveyed his books for about a minute, before gathering up the ones he'd need for the most important assignments, and headed out to the kitchen.

Eagle had moved into the living room, so Alex did his best to be stealthy – but as a tired, not-at-full-strength fourteen year old, it wasn't that easy.

"That you, Cub?"

Alex actually winced. "Who else would it be?" he returned, a little waspishly.

Eagle appeared in the doorway. "What're you doing?"

"Homework." He said, with a pointed glare. "And I need to get it done, so please, could you leave me alone?"

Eagle shrugged, spreading his hands out. "If that's what you want, of course."

Alex stared at him for a couple of moments. "Really?"

"Really." Eagle returned his raised-eyebrow-stare with a blank gaze. "What?!"

"Nothing." Alex sat, giving Eagle another, slightly uncertain, glance, not daring to question it further and look a gift horse in the mouth; but he was still shocked when Eagle actually left.

He got an hour and a half of work done before Eagle caved. "Whatcha doing?" he asked, appearing again in the doorway.

"English essay." Alex returned, deliberately not looking up at him. To do so would only encourage him, and there was no worse idea than encouraging Eagle when he was bored and Alex was busy.

"On what?"

Alex ignored him, hoping it would gain him a few minutes of peace; it didn't. Eagle nudged at his shoulder, and repeated, insistently, "On what?"

"_Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_." He said, still keeping his eyes on his work. "It's my coursework book. The pre-1900 one."

"There's a post-1900 _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_?" Eagle asked, and Alex almost – _almost_ – looked at him.

"No."

There was a silence, while Eagle rifled through Wolf's cupboards, presumably looking for something to eat. "So, what's the title of the essay?"

Alex gripped his pen a little tighter. "_Appearance and reality in Victorian society, as seen through 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_'."

"Sounds – impressive." Alex was determined not to reply, but Eagle was undeterred. "Is it fun?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been writing it? Have you got a lot done?"

Alex could feel the pressure building in his chest; apparently stress really wasn't good for him with a pulmonary contusion. "I don't' know, and yes." He paused, and added, under his breath, "A lot more when you weren't here."

"Sorry, what?"

"Nothing." His breath was coming a little less easily now, and he was frowning at his work, vowing silently to kill Wolf when he came home for getting Eagle – out of the whole of K-Unit, _Eagle_ – to babysit him.

"So… what are you going to do once you've finished that?"

"Unless you shut up and leave me alone," he had to pause here to take a deep breath, and frowned, annoyed, "I'm probably not _going_ to finish it!"

Eagle raised an amused eyebrow at him. "_Someone's_ a bit tetchy!"

"_Someone's_ a bit _annoying_!" Alex snapped back, breathing heavily.

Eagle grinned. "Are you feeling OK, Cub?"

Alex was about to reply, when the phone rang. Giving Eagle a warning glare, he picked it up, and said, quietly, trying to keep his breath reasonable, and not sound too much like a heavy breather, "Hallo?"

An annoyed voice answered him. "Oh. You're still there, then?"

"Gloria?"

* * *

(grin) Like it? Hope so.

Do tell.

-ami xxx


	16. Chapter 16

Well, here it is - the apparently long-awaited Chapter 16 of 'In Loco Parentis'. Thank you all for waiting so patiently for me!

I do have something to say, though, about reviews. I value everyone's review - I'm flattered that people enjoy my stories, and I'm touched every time someone enjoys them enough to leave me a review. What I don't like so much is people demanding updates with menaces, which has happened a couple of times. I do _have_ a real life, guys, and at the moment, real life involves juggling looking after my mother, who's not very well, looking after my grandmother, who would normally be looked after by my mother, getting ready for Christmas, and dealing with preparation and holiday work for my A-Levels. As I'm sure you can understand, writing fanfiction has taken a bit of a back seat in the face of all of that. Thankfully, everything's easing up a bit now, so I have more time to concentrate on the fun stuff - but, please, if I haven't updated something for a while, there is a reason for it. The update of my Mary Sue parody I had written already, and my update of Sub Zero seemed to write itself - but with my "bigger" fics, I like to take time over each chapter, and time is something I just haven't had over the last few weeks. I still enjoy reading all of your reviews, and, like I said, I'm touched and flattered that people enjoy my stories, but please can we cut back a little on the demands for updates?

I am trying; I'm writing near constantly, when I can, but there are always reasons why I'm not updating, and being bugged and occasionally threatened into it really doesn't help.

Right! Now I've got that off my chest, I think I can banish Serious!Amitai for a bit. :D

The story is, as always, dedicated to **Von**, who does all the work of a beta-reader without any of the credit, helps me with ideas, and listens to me rant and rave about various instances of writers block, and life in general. You wouldn't believe how patient she is!

This chapter, though, is dedicated to two people, the first being **LostInColour**, who I think MUST have won the prize for being the most loyal reviewer - thanks, sweetie! It means a lot - and the second being **Santa Claus**. Because, hey, it's Christmas!!

As it happens, this chapter sets my record for Longest. Ever. 23 pages - I'm just too good. I hope it was worth the wait!

DISCLAIMER: Well, the bookrights were on my Christmas List, but I don't think even Santy could wrest them away from Anthony Horowitz.

_

* * *

_

_Alex was about to reply, when the phone rang. Giving Eagle a warning glare, he picked it up, and said, quietly, trying to keep his breath reasonable, and not sound too much like a heavy breather, "Hallo?"_

_An annoyed voice answered him. "Oh. You're still there, then?"_

_"Gloria?"_

Eagle's expression changed almost instantly, to a look of mingled worry and disapproval.

"Yes, it's Gloria. Is James there?"

"Um…" Alex paused. "No, I'm sorry, he's not, he's got a job…"

"Oh, and you think _I_ haven't?" she snapped.

"No! I just meant, he doesn't work at home!"

"Yes, I'm _sure_ that's what you meant." She sneered, unpleasantly, and Alex sighed.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, unsure of what else to say, but Gloria didn't even let him finish his sentence before she started talking again.

"Do you have a number I can contact James on?"

"Is it really important?" Alex asked, diffidently, imagining Wolf's reaction to receiving a call from his girlfriend at the MI6 Headquarters. 'Fall-out' wasn't nearly impressive enough to describe what would happen afterwards.

"How is that any of your business?" Gloria snapped at him. "Look – whatever your name is-"

"Alex."

"Yeah, I don't care. Look, either you have a number for him, or you don't, and if you do, you'll give it to me, alright? If you don't, I don't want to be wasting my time talking to you."

Alex took a deep, rather difficult breath, before saying, firmly, "I'm sorry, I don't. Wo-… James will probably be back around six."

The only answer he got was the dial tone.

"Charming." Eagle commented blandly. "You OK, Cub?"

Alex looked at him, and shrugged. "Of course I am. Why would I let myself get worked up about some cow with bad manners?"

Eagle spread his hands as if to ward off an attack of some kind. "Just asking." He grinned, suddenly. "It's nice to know that you and Wolf's girlfriend-of-the-moment get on so well. I'm sure he'll be _delighted_."

Alex looked back at his work, and shrugged again. "I don't want to make things difficult." He said, diffidently. "This whole thing is awkward enough as it is, you know? Last thing any of us need is something like – well. Like this."

"Cub, the way I see it, _you're_ not the one making difficulties here." Eagle said.

Alex nodded, slowly. "Yeah, maybe."

"Definitely." The man said, firmly.

For a few moments, there was a long, rather awkward pause. Alex was the one who finally broke it, saying, rather wearily,

"So… d'you want lunch, or anything?"

Eagle nodded, but frowned. "I, er… I guess I should do it, really, right? I mean – you're sick…"

"Exactly." Alex said, firmly. "Too sick to risk your cooking."

"At least I'm better than James." Eagle protested, but Alex noted, as he got out a bag of three minute pasta and set the kettle on to boil, that the man wasn't making much of a move to actually take over the cooking.

"From what you've told me," he returned, sarcastically, heading to the fridge to get the ingredients for a pasta sauce, "That's really not saying much."

"True." Eagle agreed, with a grin. "You know those boil-in-a-bag ready meals the army give you in ration packs? James can even burn them. He forgets about them while plotting a route, or cleaning a gun or something, and lets them boil out."

"You'd think he'd know how to concentrate, what with being in the army." Alex said, rather absent-minded himself at the moment, concentrating, as he was, on creating a pasta sauce with some sun-dried tomato paste and a tub of crème fraiche.

"I don't think he's ever really bothered to cook, you know?" Eagle shrugged. "He's never had to cook for anyone, and he'd never bother for himself. He's just not really big on – well, food. He has to eat it, but it doesn't interest him." He paused. "My god, I sound like a self-help book."

Alex spared him a quick grin as he stirred his make-do sauce. "Any minute now, you'll be suggesting group therapy for all of you."

Eagle just shuddered.

* * *

Half an hour later, Eagle was washing up and chattering mindlessly at Alex, while Alex tuned him out and continued with his homework. He'd worked out about twenty minutes ago that there was a strategy to dealing with him; Eagle didn't necessarily expect contribution, he just wanted to be able to talk. Alex could ignore him perfectly safely, get some homework done, and be keeping the man happy and entertained all at the same time.

Sometimes, he wondered which of them was the adult.

On the other hand, though, he could still remember the stern, grim-faced Eagle he'd first known while they were training, taciturn and apparently humourless, so it was just as well not to go getting too comfortable with this other side of the man. There were definitely two sides to each man in K-Unit, and Alex was determined not to be caught out by them again.

Eagle sat down at the table, opposite him, drying slightly-soapy hands on a dish cloth; surprised by the sudden silence, Alex looked up at him.

"What?"

"Well – you've been working for a while now…" The man began, voice uncertain, face a picture of awkwardness – this was obviously way out of his league. "Shouldn't you – y'know – take a quick break, or something? Relax? I mean… you're ill, right? So…"

Alex just shook his head. "I'm not doing anything strenuous." He returned, by way of counter-argument. "And I really need to catch up on this stuff."

Eagle nodded, slowly. "Yeah, Wolf mentioned you were having difficulty keeping up with your school stuff." He paused. "Don't MI6 give you enough downtime to deal with it all?"

Alex shrugged, uncomfortably. He never knew quite how to react when his 'work' was brought up – in his head, it was relatively simple; MI6 blackmailed him, he did what they wanted, except for the rare occasions when his own curiosity led him into situations. For the SAS men, K-Unit in particular, who thought in terms of downtime and back payment and preparation time and back-up, Alex knew it would be difficult to convince them that it was that simple. It was mostly just easier not to talk about it. "Not really." He hedged, awkwardly.

"But – they do give you downtime, right?"

"Since I'm never officially 'on duty', I can never officially be 'off-duty' either, can I?" he said, quietly. "I just… do what I'm told."

Eagle digested that in silence for a few minutes. "I guess Wolf's mentioned that his grandmother's looking for a tutor for you?"

"Yeah…" Alex sighed, relieved at the change of topic. "I'm really grateful to her… it'll help. Loads, in fact."

Eagle nodded, still rather awkward. "Yeah. Y'know, Matt's good with that kind of thing – I think he helps his nephews out with their homework, or something like that… but none of them are teenagers, so maybe it wouldn't be that easy." He shrugged. "I dunno. Just a suggestion."

Alex frowned a little, not entirely sure which response to give first. Finally, he settled on the most obvious one. "Fox has nephews?"

"Oh, yeah." Eagle nodded, leaning back in the wooden kitchen chair, much more comfortable with a subject like this one, where there were concrete answers and correct responses. "His older sister's got three boys – nice kids. Oldest's ten."

Alex paused, digesting that. "Fox has an _older sister_?"

Eagle grinned at him. "Weird, isn't it? But she's five years older than him, and she doesn't half boss him around."

"That's the weirdest thing I've heard in years." Alex muttered. The idea of Fox as a harried younger brother bordered on disturbing. "So – you've met them, then?"

"Well, yeah – I was staying with Matt, cos my house was flooded while I was away."

"And, of course, there's nothing like taking your partner home to meet the family." Alex added, straight-faced.

"Yeah, exac- what?" Alex simply smirked, and Eagle groaned. "I really hate it when you do that."

"It's not like I do it often." Alex shrugged, by way of a reply, then paused, and added a soft, faintly reluctant, "Sorry, though."

Eagle shrugged it off, easily. "No problem. Seriously." He paused. "But, if you ever say it in front of Wolf, I may have to, y'know – hurt you."

"Deal."

* * *

The rest of the day passed relatively smoothly – Eagle occasionally looked in on Alex, annoyed him for about half an hour, then left and let him get on with it. At Eagle's insistence, Alex took a break for a couple of hours in the afternoon, and was surprised at how much he found he'd needed the sleep.

By the time Wolf came home, Alex had managed to complete at least half the homework he'd been set while he was 'on assignment' – most of the things he'd managed to complete had been those with obvious answers, or ones he could easily find through a Google search; having missed the lessons which went with the homework, his knowledge was far from up to dealing with most of the prep he'd been given. He was suddenly extremely grateful that Wolf – or Elena, as it happened – was organizing a tutor for him; he'd never have been able to teach himself everything he needed to know.

Wolf appeared in the doorway, and gave him a quick nod, by way of greeting. "Alex."

Alex frowned faintly at the use of his real name – Wolf almost always called him 'Cub' – but returned the nod. "Hi."

"Alex, right?" Someone appeared next to Wolf in the doorway, offering him a warm, slightly surprised smile. "I didn't think you'd still be here! I thought you were only looking after him for a couple of weeks?" this last was addressed to Wolf, who shrugged, rather awkwardly, by way of an answer.

"Oh… yeah, well… the Children's Home he was supposed to be sent to had to be closed down. Didn't pass the Health and Safety regulations, you know? And there were no foster homes which could take him, so…" He shrugged again. "Since he was already here, I said I'd look after him for as long as necessary."

Michael Webb raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised Child Services let you…" he began, but was cut off by Eagle, who said, smoothly, appearing in the kitchen through the door which connected it with the sitting room,

"Well, we saw how happy Alex was here, and decided that, since Mr. San Luca didn't mind, there was no point uprooting him. We're most interested in providing a safe, stable environment for the children under our care, and Mr. San Luca is obviously providing that." In spite of himself, Alex was impressed; from Eagle's normal, happy-go-lucky attitude (no matter what his attitude had been at their training camp), he would never have guessed that the man could carry off a story so well, on such a spur-of-the-moment basis.

"And you are…?"

"Neal Smith, Alex's social worker." Eagle said, with a small, professional smile, holding out his hand, which Michael shook, still looking rather bemused. "I've spent the day here with Alex sorting out some paperwork, since he's been off-school."

"Oh – sorry to hear that, Alex." Michael gave him another quick smile. "Nothing serious, I hope?" Alex shook his head, and Michael smiled again, before turning back to Eagle, "I'm curious that you think James is providing a 'safe, stable environment' for Alex, when it's clear that someone's beaten the sh-" his eyes flickered to Alex, "Crap out of him."

Alex jumped in there. "That was my fault." He said, with a diffident shrug. "I had a fight at school."

Michael gave him a disapproving look, then sighed. "And you came off worst, I guess?"

"Something like that."

Eagle jumped in there, again. "Well, Mr. San Luca, I've sorted out everything I need to here, so I'm going to head off now – but I'll be in touch, OK?"

"Yeah – yeah, of course." Wolf took Eagle's offered hand, with just the slightest twitch of his lips to show his amusement; and Eagle grinned outright, before leaving, with a quick grin in Alex's direction.

Michael sat at the table as Wolf stood, glancing over all the files spread across the table, taking in the text books, and the essays, and the finished handouts Alex had been set, just as Alex stood.

"Coffee? Tea?" he offered, casually, and Wolf nodded.

"Coffee, please – Michael?"

"Yeah, a coffee for me please, too – milk and two sugars." He picked up Alex's essay on '_Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_', skimming through it. "You know, this is good, Alex." He said, after a pause, glancing up at the boy, who was half way through dumping coffee in three mugs. "Really good. D'you like English?"

Alex nodded, slowly, "Yeah, I guess. It's, er… it's difficult, cos I've been moving around so much, and I've missed so much school, but – yeah, I like it."

"Michael's studying for his doctorate in English." Wolf told him, casually. "At UCL. (1)"

"Wow." Alex nodded, politely. "That must be – hard."

Michael put the essay back neatly where he'd found it, and nodded, rather self-consciously. "It's, er… it's not _easy_, I guess, but…it's fun, you know? It interests me."

"Yeah, sure. So – what can you do, if you've got an English degree?" Alex asked, as the kettle boiled. "I mean… if you've got a languages degree, or something, you've actually _learned_ something, but English and History degrees… it doesn't seem like they've got much, y'know – practical use."

Michael smiled, rather ruefully. "You're probably not far wrong there." He agreed, a little flushed. "But – I think you get more out of a text, a book, or a poem, whatever it is, if you've studied English. And you can do anything with it – you don't just have to be an English teacher, or something. You can be a journalist, or join a company, or do what Wolf does," Alex had to suppress a smile, "And work for the government… it's not a limiting degree, is what I'm trying to say, I think." He finished, flushing a little harder. "Or, I've never found that it is."

Wolf grinned at that. "You're still studying your degree." He pointed out, "How would you know whether it's limiting or not?"

Michael acknowledged the point with a mock-glare, before turning back to Alex – who was clearing up all his files while he waited for the kettle to boil – and saying, pointedly. "All degrees will lead somewhere – none of them are useless, you know? Even Wolf's isn't _completely_ useless."

"Hey!" Wolf protested, and Alex took a moment to reflect that his guardian acted totally differently around Michael than he did around the rest of K-Unit – not so stiff and grumpy. Alex didn't doubt that Wolf trusted his unit implicitly, or that he liked them; but with them, he was a soldier, and with Michael, he didn't have to be. It was a welcome change, and Alex couldn't help but think it was sad that Wolf couldn't be completely honest with the man.

Having said that, he couldn't help but realise that he himself acted differently around Michael. It was much easier to be a teenager around him; he didn't know about Alex's 'job', and he had no expectations that Alex should act in any way other than like a teenager. It was a refreshingly liberating experience.

"…degree _is_ useful!" Wolf was saying, with a faint hint of chagrin in his tone.

Michael just grinned at him. "I wouldn't have said that a Chemistry degree-"

"With French!"

"Is exactly the ideal degree to feed you into a career working for the Civil Service, would you?"

"Ministry of Defence, Mikey." Wolf corrected lazily. "I've told you that before."

Michael nodded, but his eyes flicked to Alex once again. "I still don't really understand how you ended up looking after Alex in the first place." He sighed. "But I doubt I'll get a straight answer from you, anyway."

Alex, sensing that the conversation was starting to get into areas Wolf probably wouldn't thank him for staying around to listen to, and starting to feel tired in any case, began gathering up his books. "I'm just, er… going to head back to my room." He said, rather awkwardly. "I've still got some homework to be catching up on."

"Need any help carrying stuff?" Wolf asked, casually, but Alex caught the very real hint of worry in his voice – neither of them had forgotten that Alex was still recovering from the contusion in his lungs.

"No – I'm good." Alex shook his head, and left them there.

* * *

Michael left a couple of hours later, just after seven, calling his goodbyes to Alex down the little corridor where the bedrooms and bathrooms lay in Wolf's flat.

Alex headed for the kitchen when he heard the 'front door' of the flat shut, opening the fridge, and starting to pull out the ingredients he thought he'd need for supper. By the time Wolf appeared in the kitchen – he'd taken a detour to his room, and had changed out of his work clothes into the ubiquitous jeans and T-shirt he always seemed to wear outside of work – Alex had started cutting up carrots for their meal, and some sausages were frying on the hob.

"Good day?" Wolf asked laconically, heading over to the stove, and idly turning the sausages.

"Alright." Alex nodded, grabbing a saucepan from the draw, and filling it with water, before dumping the carrots in and setting a timer for them. "You?"

"Yeah, not bad. Nothing interesting."

There was a brief silence, before Alex remembered the phone call from earlier. "Oh! Gloria rang, by the way. She asked if you'd ring her back."

Wolf frowned a little, but nodded. "Oh. Right. Thanks, Cub."

"S'alright." He paused, glancing at Wolf as the man stood by the frying pan, before saying, slowly, "Wolf…" he was given a questioning look. "Why don't you just tell Michael about your job? I mean – it's just an extension of being in the army, isn't it? It's not like working for MI6; you're not required to keep silent about it, are you?"

Wolf shrugged, and looked back at the frying sausages, turning one of them, rather absently. "Well – I could tell him, I guess. I just…" he paused, then shrugged. "I don't want to."

Alex frowned. "But you have to bend over backwards to make sure he doesn't find out, and – it's a little weird."

"Maybe." Wolf agreed, in a rather hard voice which brooked no further questions. "But it works out pretty well for your situation, doesn't it? Think how much harder it would be to explain why a soldier was randomly looking after a kid for six months."

Alex wisely dropped the subject.

Dinner was a little strained that night, though Wolf visibly made an effort to make up for his harsh response earlier, and Alex went to bed soon after, once Wolf had assured him that he would deal with the washing up. Alex couldn't help but be surprised at how tired he was, still, and it was a welcome relief to be able just to go to sleep and not have to worry about cleaning up after himself.

* * *

Once Wolf had cleared the kitchen, he paused for a couple of minutes, before rather reluctantly picking up the phone and dialling Gloria's number. In all the rush of the last couple of days, he had nearly forgotten about her completely, and he hadn't seen her since the weekend when Bear had come over, nearly ten days ago. It wasn't like it was such a crime, he excused himself, mentally, as he waited for Gloria to pick up; they'd been together only about a month or so.

"Hello?"

"Gloria? It's me, James."

"James! Hi!" Her enthusiasm sounded strangely forced to Wolf's ears, but he dismissed the thought. "You haven't called for ages! Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, fine." He said, slowly, "C-… Alex, my ward, he's been ill for the last couple of days, so things have been a bit hectic, but apart from that, everything's fine."

"I was surprised that he was _still_ there." She told him, some of the warmth in her tone leeching away. "I thought he was only going to be there for a couple of weeks – if he's getting tiresome, you should just request that he goes somewhere else. Some other orphanage, or something."

Wolf frowned a little. "He's a good kid." He defended the boy, his voice a little cool. "I don't mind having him around."

"Well…" she sounded doubtful, but rallied almost immediately. "So long as he's not going to be a permanent fixture, I suppose it's fine to have him around."

Wolf didn't bother to answer that. "So – how have things been with you?"

"Alright, yeah… I just rang you to tell you that I got that promotion I applied for – you know, the one to Deputy Manager?" Wolf made appropriate noises of congratulation, and he could hear the pleased smirk in her voice, as she said, "So, I was thinking, maybe you'd like to come out with me and celebrate it somewhere? Just you and me?"

Wolf paused, thinking of Alex – then shrugged to himself. "Sure, why not. Did you have anywhere in mind?"

She laughed a little. "Tell you what – surprise me. You make the reservations."

Wolf grimaced; dinner reservations really weren't his thing, but it was only fair that he should make the effort, when it was her celebration, and the last time they'd met up had been so screwed up by Bear. "Sure." He attempted a smile he knew she couldn't see, but which he hoped would convey itself to his voice. "Yeah, I'll do that. So – Saturday night?"

"Can't do Saturday, a group of us are going out." Gloria said, rather apologetically, "How about Friday?"

"Yeah, Friday's fine." Wolf nodded. "I'll come and collect you, OK?"

"Sure."

"Great. Well, um… I'll see you then."

"See you, James. Bye!"

She'd hung up before he had a chance to reply, and he was left with the vague feeling that he'd been had in some way.

* * *

Alex stayed at home the next day, Wednesday, as well, at Wolf's insistence, with Eagle 'babysitting' for him; he still tired easily, and was looking rather pale and wan still. Dr. Davies, from St. Dominic's, had rung Wolf shortly after he'd spoken to Gloria, and they had arranged a check-up for Alex at five-thirty, after Wolf got home.

Wolf wasn't going to deny that it would be a relief to be getting the kid checked over again, but managed to excuse the borderline-soppy thought by reflecting that he couldn't be dealing with a sick kid. He just didn't have the time.

Alex was waiting for him when he got back from work, and they took the Tube over to St. Dominic's, where Dr. Davies met them, in the reception. The receptionist – the same from last time, Alex noticed, rather guiltily – gave him a dirty look, and pointedly ignored him.

Dr. Davies led the two up to his office, being careful to ask whether Alex minded having his guardian in the room with him, or whether he'd prefer him to wait outside.

Alex glanced at Wolf, frowning a little. "Um – outside, if you don't mind." He said, quiet but firm.

Wolf nodded, relieved. If Cub had wanted him in there, he would probably have just had to grit his teeth and do it, but it would have definitely been awkward; it was much easier this way.

He settled himself on a chair just next to the door – where he could just about hear what was being said inside, provided the noise in the corridor didn't get too high – and waited.

Dr. Davies gave Alex a warm smile, gesturing him into one of the seats opposite his desk. "I was a little surprised that you'd checked yourself out, Alex." He said, by way of a greeting, a slight hint of censure in his tone. "I would probably have discharged you today, if you hadn't beaten me to it, already. We like to keep people with problems as serious as yours under surveillance."

Alex suppressed a shudder at the man's choice of words. He knew that the doctor didn't mean anything by it, but it was a phrase Alex couldn't view with anything except distaste. "Yeah. Sorry. I just don't like hospitals."

Davies offered a wry smile. "Yes, I can understand that." He paused. "But, Alex, you have to understand – with a contusion as severe as yours, you were lucky not to need to be intubated." Alex blinked a little, and he elaborated, "You were lucky not to need help breathing. It's also nothing short of a miracle that you haven't got ARDS – Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. It affects eighty percent of sufferers whose lung capacity is decreased by twenty percent, or upwards."

Alex shifted a little in his seat. "I'm just lucky, I guess." He sad, rather awkwardly.

"You certainly are." Davies agreed, with another smile. "Now, the easy questions. Have you experienced any shortness of breath over the last few days?"

"A couple of times." Alex hedged, warily. "About twice, I think, yesterday morning."

Davies noted it down. "Yes, that's probably normal, whilst the contusion is clearing up…"

Alex frowned. "I don't understand this." He said, slowly. "If it just goes away by itself – why does it matter that I discharged myself?"

"It's just a matter of your health, Alex. If something _were_ to go wrong – if, for example, you had developed ARDS, which I admit I was almost certain you would – it would have been easier to have you with us, so we could deal with it. And pulmonary contusions – they do clear up by themselves, but there can be complications, such as pneumonia, or ARDS; in some cases, there is even the risk that the sufferer will develop another bleed into the lungs, and drown." Davies paused, realising that he might be worrying Alex, and offered him another warm smile. "Of course, yours is past the stage where any of these things could happen, so you needn't worry."

Alex nodded, considering what he'd been told. "So – how can you tell that I'm, um… cured?"

"I'm going to send you for an X-ray in a couple of minutes – it will show up on there, whether it's cleared up or not." Davies told him, apparently thinking that Alex needed reassuring. "Before that, though, we'll just go through the basics – have you coughed up any more blood?"

"Not since Sunday." Alex answered, truthfully.

"And how do you feel?"

For a moment, Alex thought about it, then said, slowly. "I, er… I get tired quite easily, but – apart from that, I feel fine."

"No headaches, or nausea?"

"Why would a pulmonary contusion cause headaches or nausea?"

Davies actually grinned at that. "It's just a standard question I have to ask."

"Oh. Right, well – no."

"Great! I'm just going to listen to your heart-rate, and check your breathing, if you don't mind," Alex shook his head, as Davies took his stethoscope from round his neck, "Just to see if there are any problems. That alright, Alex?"

"Yeah, fine."

"OK." There was silence for a few minutes, as Davies monitored Alex's heartbeat. "That all seems fine. Now, breath in, please…" Alex obeyed, and Davies listened for a couple more moments, "And breath out." Another pause. "And breath in… and breath out." Finally, he took the stethoscope away from Alex's back, and nodded, looking satisfied. "That all seems to be going well – there's a slight whisper as you breath, but nothing unexpected. So I'm going to send you down to the X-Ray unit now, with a nurse," he pressed a bell, apparently some kind of buzzer to call a nurse, as he spoke, "And I'll have a quick chat with Mr. San Luca while we're waiting for you. Is that all alright, Alex?"

Alex nodded, a little fed up at being treated so much like a child, but careful not to show it. "Yeah – that's fine. Thank you." he added, politely. Davies smiled, as a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"No problem, Alex. Lizzie, could you take Alex down to X-Ray, please? They're expecting him." Alex followed 'Lizzie' obediently out, and Alex just saw Wolf head into the man's office/examination room as he turned the corner.

* * *

Wolf fidgeted rather nervously for a second or two, before getting himself under control. "Is everything alright, then?" he asked, finally.

Davies nodded, slowly. "I think so. At least, I'm relatively certain – the X-ray will show for sure."

"Right." There was a long, rather awkward pause. "Well, um… that's good, right?"

Davies smiled gently at the man's awkwardness. "Yes, of course." Wolf fidgeted for a few minutes more, until Davies finally took pity on him, and started up another line of conversation. "Has your – corporation – been causing Alex any more problems?"

Wolf shook his head, slowly. "None that I know of."

"How long have you been looking after him?" The doctor tried, after a pause, during which he digested that answer. "You seem – close?"

Wolf wanted to snort at that, but restrained himself, realising that the doctor could easily take offence. "He's only been with me about a month now." He shrugged. "It's not a permanent arrangement, you know? And it's not like we're related, so…" he trailed off.

Davies frowned a little. "So – how did you end up looking after him in the first place?"

Wolf paused. "His guardian left, and I'm… one of the few people he knows who could." He hedged, warily. "Could look after him, I mean."

Davies nodded, recognising that the other man probably wasn't going to say anything more and leaving it there. They waited in awkward silence again, until Wolf finally spoke up,

"D'you have any kids?" the question was gruff and a little abrupt, but the curiosity behind it was genuine enough.

"Two." Davies told him, with a proud little smile. "Girl and a boy."

"Wow." Wolf nodded, awkwardly. "That must be – busy."

"Well, yes… but rewarding all the same." Davies paused again, for another brief, agonising silence, apparently just remembering something, and trying to find the reference to it in Alex's – rather thick, Wolf noted – file. "Ah!" he said, triumphantly. "Right, here we are. I've organised Alex's PT for this Saturday, with Tom Mayer; he's one of our best therapists. This will probably be the longest session – he'll need to find out how fit Alex is, and assess the muscle damage to the area. Also," he stopped, watching Wolf's face, carefully. "We'll talk to Alex about it, of course, but we think it would be an idea for him to talk to one of our counsellors. Everything is completely confidential, of course, but I think it would be good for him. Alex's – extracurricular activities," Wolf couldn't help but smile a little at that particular name for it, "Are bound to have left some scarring… and I wouldn't even want to think what he's been through before. A little professional support might be a good idea."

Wolf agreed readily enough. The SAS were given full support in that respect, and regular psychiatric evaluations – it was a tough job which required mental as well as physical strength – but he could well believe that it was a service MI6 neglected to give Alex.

By the time they'd finished discussing the details, Alex and the nurse, Lizzie, were back – Lizzie handed Davies the results of the X-ray, gave Alex one final smile, and left, while Alex sat in the chair next to Wolf's, looking tired, though his eyes were bright enough.

"Go OK?" Wolf murmured.

"Yeah, alright." Alex nodded, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. "At least, I think so. It's not like I'd understand the results."

Any reply Wolf might have given was cut off as Davies – who had pinned the 'photos' on the light-board in one corner of his room – said, calmly, "Yes, the contusion's clearing up nicely, Alex. With any luck, it should be gone by the weekend." He paused. "I'm sure Wolf's mentioned the idea of some PT to help you with that bullet wound of yours – to lower the risk of anything like this happening again – and I've organised a session for you this Saturday, at three. If you came, say, half an hour earlier, I could give you another quick check over, like this one, slot you in for another quick X-ray, just to make sure everything's going alright?"

Alex nodded, silently, thinking it over before replying. "Um – yeah, sure, that sounds great." He agreed. He bit his lip for a moment or two, then said, slowly. "Can I go back to school now?"

Davies smiled at that. "I'd have thought you'd be clamouring to stay out of it for a bit." Alex just shrugged at that. "Well, yes – theoretically, I suppose you can. So long as you don't tire yourself out – and I'd recommend not doing sport – you can go back any time you like. You're hardly contagious."

"Could you give me a note to say I can't do sport, please?"

Davies nodded. "Of course."

Wolf stood. "Is that everything, then?"

"Yes." The doctor sat down, pulling a piece of hospital stationary towards him, and grabbing a pen. "I'll just write that note for you, Alex, and then you're free to go. Don't hesitate to call me if you experience any problems, alright?"

* * *

When they got back to the flat, Wolf rather awkwardly offered to make some coffee, while Alex set about making supper. The break in what had started to be their normal routine was far from being a welcome one, and both of them were keen to resume it; their relationship wasn't yet stable and defined enough for either of them to feel comfortable with sudden changes.

"I'm, er… I'm going out on Friday night." Wolf said, eventually, just as the silence was beginning to get awkward.

"Oh? Anywhere nice?" Alex asked, casually.

Wolf just shrugged. "Dunno yet. I've got to make the reservations."

Alex glanced up at him. "What's the occasion?"

"Gloria got a promotion." He said, rather absently. "She wanted to celebrate, so I – offered to take her out for a meal."

The little pause told Alex that his temporary guardian hadn't so much 'offered' as been coerced into taking the woman out, but he wisely didn't call the man on it. Knowing Wolf, he wouldn't want to be reminded about it – provided he even fully realised that that was what had happened, and, in any case, Alex felt far from comfortable prying into Wolf's relationship with his girlfriend. That was another area of the man's life where he definitely didn't belong.

"Have you got any ideas about where you're gonna go?"

Wolf picked rather moodily at his food – a macaroni cheese Alex had made rather hurriedly when they got back; it was a little lumpy, but neither of them mentioned it – and shrugged again. "I don't know. I mean, I don't go out much…" Alex raised an eyebrow, and Wolf treated him to a low-level glare by way of retaliation. "I didn't mean it like _that_… I just meant, I don't go to restaurants much." Wolf paused, before saying, a little uncomfortably, "You, er… you don't know anywhere, do you?"

It was Alex's turn to shrug. "There are a couple of places near where I live – in Chelsea – but if that's too far away…"

Wolf shook his head. "Seriously, Cub, I just need a restaurant to go to. I really don't care where it is, so long as I don't have to hike there."

Alex nodded, slowly. "Well…there's this place called "Troia" a couple of streets away, that's nice… my uncle took me there a couple of times." He paused, thinking. "There're a whole load round there, though, and most of them are nice…"

Wolf shrugged. "Can you get me a number for this Troia place?"

"Yeah, sure…"

"Sounds good." His guardian nodded, the matter apparently closed for him, and Alex grinned to himself. "What?"

"Nothing…"

"No, seriously – what?"

"Well… you don't know what food they serve, you don't know what it's like, but you're willing to go there just – because?"

Wolf considered this for a couple of moments, then nodded. "Yep." Alex just smiled again, and the man gave him an exasperated look. "You told me that it's a nice place, and I believe you, OK? What more is there to ask?"

Alex shook his head, refusing to show how much Wolf's words had meant. There was no need to get soppy, after all – but that didn't mean he would forget it.

* * *

Alex insisted on going back to school the next day, armed with a note from Dr. Davies about his doing sport, and the pale, wan look of someone who has been genuinely ill; he noticed that, despite the fact that this was the last of a series of "illnesses", the odd looks he normally got on his reappearance at school were markedly less frequent.

Apparently, this time, he had the evidence to back up his story.

Despite that, Tom was the only person who seemed genuinely pleased to see him – all of his other friends seemed a little wary around him now, and Alex wondered, absently, how much his smaller friend had said about his absence.

Lucy approached him and Tom, rather awkwardly, at break. "Alex…" she began, awkwardly, breaking off as soon as Alex actually looked at her.

"Yeah?" If his voice was cool, he didn't think he could be faulted for it.

"I, er… I just wanted to say – I'm sorry. For dropping you in it. It's just, you know, you don't have parents, and, well…"

Alex raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry, I thought you didn't have parents either?"

She had the grace to look embarrassed. "Oh… yeah…" she mumbled, rather awkwardly, and Tom had to smother a grin. "Look, I'm sorry, OK? I just, er… my Mum would kill me."

"Oh, that'd be non-existent mum I thought you didn't have?" Alex said, sarcastically, and she flushed even harder, but nodded all the same. He let the pause go on for a few moments, just to watch her squirm – he might have been one of MI6's top spies, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel vindictive somehow, and she could have got him into a whole load of trouble with Wolf – he said, finally, "Fine. Don't worry about it."

She looked up sharply at that. "Seriously? You're not angry?"

"Not really." Alex shrugged. "I just don't care either way. I mean, you lied to me and then you lied about me, so there really isn't much reason why I _should_ care about you, is there?"

Apparently, that wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for, since she didn't answer, heading back to her small group of friends looking suspiciously – and, to Alex's mind, unreasonably – hurt.

"Bit harsh?" Tom said, diffidently, and Alex shrugged again.

"Yeah, maybe. But I'm so fed up of being lied to."

"I can understand that, but – that was a bit over the top, wasn't it?"

"Maybe." Alex admitted, "But think about it – my guardian was furious with me, OK? And there's nothing to stop him chucking me out if I piss him off too much; it's not like this arrangement is actually _legal_, or anything. So, I can't afford to… get on his bad side, I guess." It wasn't so much that Alex genuinely though that Wolf would throw him out; more that he wasn't willing to take any chances.

Tom nodded, slowly. "OK." They didn't say anything more on the subject, instead talking about Tom's parents divorce, or his brother Jerry, now in Milan, and their plans for half term next week. Lucy was completely forgotten.

* * *

The whole day passed smoothly enough – Alex's teacher actually seemed to sympathise with him this time, rather than their normal attitude of silent accusation, which he faced every time he came back after an 'illness'. Miss Bedfordshire, the school receptionist, actually suggested that he should have taken a couple more days off, since he still looked 'peaky', and the school nurses – who he helped out while the rest of his class were doing PE – offered to give him 'a quick check up', in case he was still running a temperature. Alex bore the fussing as best he could, but found himself longing for the indifference he was usually faced with by the time lunch rolled round.

It was the last lesson of the day before anything really happened. His Maths teacher, Mr. Robinson, was explaining quadratic equations, something which Alex had miraculously already gone through with Mr. Grey the summer before, and he was half-dozing through the lesson; it was late September, it was sunny, and he'd had what felt like a long, long day. He felt he could be excused for wanting to drift off.

He headed out of the room with the rest of his class when the bell went to signal the end of the school day, ready to head back to the flat and sleep for the next week or so, when Mr. Robinson called him back.

"Alex? Could I have a minute, please?"

Tom gave him a sympathetic look, before leaving him to the tender mercies of their Maths teacher.

"Sir?"

The teacher favoured him with his warmest, most approachable smile, which Alex didn't return. "Could you spare a few minutes, Alex? The Headmaster would like to have a word with you, if that's alright…"

Alex paused, then nodded. There wasn't really anything else he could do. "Sure. Right now?"

"If you haven't got anywhere you need to be?"

He was tempted, for a couple of seconds, to make something up, but in the end he just sighed, and shook his head. "No, sir."

He followed Robinson through the corridors of the school until they reached the Headmaster's office. Mr. Bray, the head of Brooklands, was a nice enough man, as head teachers went – a tall, greying man, who had obviously once been fit and healthy, but was now going rather to seed. He was genuinely interested in all of the pupils at Brooklands, and Alex couldn't help but think that he was dangerous.

Bray offered him the same warm, sympathetic smile that Robinson had given him, and offered him a chair, which Alex took, sitting tensely on the edge of the seat.

"Now, Alex – I don't want you to think you're in any trouble, here." Bray began, calmly, and Alex nodded. "I know Mr. Robinson has talked to you about this, but I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions about your home life. Is that alright, Alex?"

Alex nodded; he was prepared for it this time.

"Your uncle died – eight months ago, now, is that right?"

"Yes. In a car crash, sir."

"Quite. I don't know if we said so at the time – you were off school, after all – but we're all very sorry for you loss."

Alex sincerely doubted that, but he nodded anyway. "Thank you."

"After that," Bray looked at the brown manila file open on his desk; on looking closer, Alex saw, with a start, that it was his file. "You started missing school regularly, your grades started to slip, and your teachers have reported that you've been coming to school with some nasty injuries, over the last eight months." Bray looked up at him, watery brown eyes genuinely warm and worried. This man might be dangerous to Alex, but he was motivated by the sincerest of reasons, and Alex couldn't find it in himself to blame him. "Tell me, Alex, who have you been living with since your uncle's death?"

"My guardian, James." He said, quietly. "James san Luca."

"Is he a relative of yours?"

"N-no… no, he's not." Alex said, rather uncertainly.

"Why are you living with him, then?"

"He, um… it's a little complicated."

"In what way, 'complicated'?" Robinson asked, speaking up for the first time since they'd arrived in Bray's office.

Alex shrugged. "Well, my uncle was a banker; in his Will, he kind of, um… left me to the Bank he worked for, you know?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't 'know', Alex." Bray said, kindly. "I don't see how a child can be left to a bank in someone's Will."

For a moment, Alex floundered, then he forged on. He was a 'child', after all. They wouldn't expect him to understand how all of this worked, exactly. "I don't really understand it." He said, frankly. "But I was, so the bank is kind of like my legal guardian. And James is the person who took me in, so I live with him now."

"So he's not an old family friend, or anything like that?"

"Sort of." Alex lied, calmly. "I mean, my uncle knew him."

"Right. So, did your uncle specify that you should live with this 'James' when he 'left you' to this bank he worked for?"

Alex shrugged, remembering what Ian had told him about lying. 'Never make a lie more complicated than it needs to be'. Neither Robinson nor Bray was actually expecting Alex to be able to answer questions like these – it would be more suspicious if he _could_ answer than if he couldn't. "I don't know."

Bray nodded, still with that warm, sympathetic little smile. Alex was beginning to hate that smile. "And – do you get on with your guardian?"

"With James? Yeah – he's nice."

"And has James ever hurt you in any way?" Bray asked, very gently.

Alex widened his eyes, and shook his head, doing his best to look stunned. "No! Why on earth would he?"

"Some adults are just like that." Robinson broke in again, and Alex was acutely aware of the irony of being taught by his school-teachers about all the big nasty grown ups out there in the big wide world. If this whole situation hadn't been so deadly serious, it would have been hilarious. "They just enjoy hurting children."

"Well, James doesn't." Alex said, very firmly. "But I suppose you want to speak to him?"

"Actually, we were hoping you could give us his mobile number, or a number we can contact him on. We haven't been able to get in contact with him, and, as you say, we would like him to come in and talk things over with us."

"Really, sir, there's nothing going on that you have to worry about." Alex tried, one last time, before realising his mistake. The last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he was unwilling for them to talk to Wolf – it only served to back up their theory.

"As your school, Alex, we have to make sure that your home life is – suitable. If we think someone's hurting you, we can't let it-"

"Seriously, sir." Alex interrupted, as firmly as he could manage. "James isn't hurting me. He wouldn't do that."

"Then he won't mind coming in for a quick chat with us." Bray returned, inexorably, with that same calm smile. "So, if you could give us some contact details for him, and give him a letter for us, that would be wonderful, please, Alex."

"I know you may not be too happy with this, Alex," Robinson said, gently, "But we're just trying to do what's best for you."

Thoroughly fed up of being coddled like this, Alex just nodded, shrugging a little. "OK. I'll give James the letter. May I please go now?"

Bray handed over an official-looking envelope. "You know, Alex, until recently, we weren't even notified of your change of guardian. According to school records, you're still living with your uncle, so even if this turns out to be nothing but a misunderstanding, it will at least give us the chance to update our records on you."

Alex stood, offering his Headmaster a tight smile. "Fantastic." He nodded, and if there was a thread of sarcasm in his voice, he didn't think either of his teachers noticed it.

* * *

He was shocked to find that Tom had waited for him, when he finally left the school building; the shorter boy was still waiting by school gate.

"What was all that about?" he asked, curiously. "You've been in there _ages_."

Alex shrugged. "They want to talk to my guardian about – living arrangements."

"Living arrangements?" Tom's voice was frankly puzzled. "The hell?"

"It's complicated, OK?" Alex sighed, tired. "I just…yeah. It's complicated, so I'll give this letter," he held it up so Tom could see it, "To Wolf, let him go in for a quick chat with Bray and his merry band of morons, and then it'll all go back to normal." That was what he was desperately hoping would happen, anyway. He could only hope.

He was tempted to just get rid of the letter, and if he had thought that there was any chance that that would help the situation, he would have done it; but he could see that it would just make Wolf's position even more precarious than it already was. The last thing they wanted to happen was for real social workers to come down on their case.

Tom just shrugged. "It'll work out. I mean – bloody hell, Alex, your guardian works for the SAS. I'm willing to bet there's not much he can't handle, you know?"

Alex himself wasn't so sure he agreed, but nodded anyway. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Tom just grinned. "So – look, my parents are having their solicitors round on Friday, to talk about this divorce, who gets the house, who gets how much money, who gets me, all of that, and I really don't want to have to listen to all that, so I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to do then? We could – go to the cinema, or something…"

Alex nodded. "Sounds good. My guardian's going out that night, so you could come to his place, I guess. I'll check with him and tell you tomorrow, if you like?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Tom and Alex parted ways after a five minute walk – Tom to head back home, Alex to the nearest Tube station, to get back to Wolf's flat.

It was four thirty by the time he got back, and he had an hour or so at least before Wolf got home. His homework took surprisingly little time, as his teachers had given him a generous extension to do the work he'd missed, presumably because of their apparently genuine sympathy towards what finally seemed to be a real illness.

Or, Alex thought, with a faintly worried frown, it was because Robinson had talked to them about his 'home situation', and they were all trying to make his life as a supposed abuse victim easier.

That wasn't something Alex wanted to consider, so, putting his homework and his thoughts aside for the moment, he grabbed the cleaning things he'd bought when he'd first got here, and attacked the build-up of grime in the kitchen and bathroom. He'd cleaned them well a couple of weeks back, but dirt waited for no man.

By the time Wolf got home, Alex was half way through cleaning the sitting room, there was a chicken casserole in the oven, and a strong smell of disinfectant in the bathroom.

"I had to spray the shower with bleach – the dirt had caked in the tiling." Alex explained, appearing in the doorway to the sitting room.

Wolf looked at him for a long moment – wearing old, dusty clothes, and a duster in one hand – and raised an eyebrow. "Um?"

Alex looked down at himself, and forced a grin. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'll go and change."

* * *

Dinner was fairly silent; Wolf had made the reservations for Troia, for the next day, but apart from that, had nothing 'to report', and Alex was busy trying to think of a tactful way to bring up the whole abuse issue. Nothing seemed to be coming to mind.

Finally, he abandoned all idea of tact, and just went for it.

"You remember, about a week ago, a teacher of mine – um – talked to me?"

Wolf glanced up at him from the potato he was busy mashing into a pulp. "About what?"

"About you, um… abusing me?"

"Oh!" Wolf looked momentarily taken aback, then faintly amused. "Yeah?"

"They want you to go in and talk to them."

* * *

Well - there you have it. Please drop me a line to say how you enjoyed it; reviews hold a special place in my heart. :P

Happy Christmas!

-ami xxx


	17. Chapter 17

Readers dearest! I'm BAAAAAACK!! After several weeks out of action. Aren't you glad to see me? (beams)

What, not even the tiniest bit?

Right, anyway. OK, you know I said I was going to give you an update of HIOP at some point in the near future? Yeah, I totally lied.

Well, no, I didn't. But the next chapter is proving very, very difficult, so I figured you could have this one instead. I'm sure you're all delighted about that, aren't you?

Oh, come on, at least _try_ to look happy.

So, this is mostly a filler chapter, and I'm far from entirely happy with it, but this is your lot, people. I've spent over six months battling with this chapter - on top, of course, of my A-Levels and AEAs and university applications (because I'm insane and I'm applying this year rather than last year, because of my gap year, and oh, it's all so flipping confusing!) and the rest of it - and frankly, it's not going to get any better if I keep trying to improve it. So here, have a chapter.

All of my other stories are being slowly chipped away at, including my Supernatural crossover, and, yes, the 'Chalet School' crossover, which is coming along at a nice pace and should really only be read by the mentally impaired - like MEEEE!! - because... well, yeah. It's an Alex Rider/Chalet School crossover, let's not kid ourselves that it was ever going to be anything even approaching sane. Attempt Chapter 10 needed some very extensive re-working, but I'm hoping - hoping, not promising! - to get it up in the next weeek or so. HIOP7 (or is it 8? I just write the chapters, I don't count them...) is probably going to be delayed because that paintballing scene is a BITCH, but I'll grit my teeth, shut my eyes, and write the damn thing at some point. A-Levels are now over, but I start my internship this time next week, so... no promises yet.

Now that I've bored you all sufficiently, on to the story, I think! Credit, love and kudos go as usual to the great and wonderful **Von**, who encouraged me through this chapter and patted me on the back when I cried that it was "too darn difficult, WHY am I writing this?!", and to the sweet and lovely **xaritomene**, who helped me through my A-Levels with revision and chocolate.

DISCLAIMER: The Tenth Doctor is regenerating at the moment. David Tennant might be leaving Doctor Who. This might appear to have no bearing whatsoever on a totally unrelated Alex Rider fanfiction, but I tell you, until I'm certain that he will be back, I refuse to own anything! I wear sack-cloth and ashes! Not even the Alex Rider book rights could tempt me away from my vow of protest-poverty, I tell you.

Not that they were mine to start with. Meh, details.

And, after the unnecessarily long Author's Note From Hell, I give you - _In Loco Parentis_, Chapter 17. My baby, all grown up...

* * *

**Previously**

_"You remember, about a week ago, a teacher of mine – um – talked to me?"_

_Wolf glanced up at him from the potato he was busy mashing into a pulp. "About what?"_

_"About you, um… abusing me?"_

_"Oh!" Wolf looked momentarily taken aback, then faintly amused. "Yeah?"_

_"They want you to go in and talk to them."_

* * *

Wolf paused, looking across at him, then shrugged. "OK. When do they want to see me?"

Alex frowned a little. "They want you to contact them. Or they want to contact you, at least…"

"Best if I contact them first. Then I don't look like I've got something to hide." Wolf grunted, forking up some more of the casserole. "I'll mention it at work tomorrow, see what MI6 command think of it."

Alex looked back down at his own meal, willing himself to hide his nervousness. "So – what'll happen if I get, um…" He had to fight down the blush, and couldn't think of anything other than the 'soap-opera' phrase for it, "You know, taken away?" Thankfully, he managed to bite back the 'from you' which wanted to tag itself on to the end of that little outburst.

Wolf shot him a sharp look. "Seriously, Cub, don't worry about it." He said, quietly, and Alex got the impression that his not-quite guardian was trying to be reassuring without quite knowing how to go about it. "They're not going to take you away. You've got MI6 on your side – if that's not bringing out the big guns, I don't know what is."

Alex nodded, and tried to be reassured by that. It wasn't easy.

Wolf took another mouthful of casserole, and chewed, thoughtfully. "So, apart from that, how was the rest of your day?"

Alex shrugged, spearing a piece of chicken, and swirling it idly through the rice. "Not bad. Weird, though… most people were actually sympathetic, you know?"

"Well, that's a good thing, right?"

The blond boy paused, then shook his head, decisively. "No, not really. I think I preferred it when they just ignored me."

Wolf actually cracked a grin at that. "I can see your point. Just…it's not healthy, you know? You're not always going to be an ostracized loner-"

"Oh, _thank_ you." Alex muttered under his breath, but from the way Wolf's lips twitched, he caught it.

"-and you might as well get used to interacting with people properly." He finished, and Alex nodded, carefully.

"Sure. I just wish they wouldn't be so – clingy, you know?"

"Yeah." Wolf agreed, fervently, and Alex could tell he was speaking from experience.

They ate in silence for a couple more minutes, before Wolf spoke up again. Hastily swallowing some chicken, he took a quick sip of water, saying,

"Oh, by the way – the high-ups contacted me again today, about you going down to Credenhill…"

"Credenhill?"

"Administrative HQ." Wolf told him, dismissively. "You were supposed to go up there last weekend, to talk to them about Bear, remember?" Alex thought back for a moment, then nodded, slowly – he did vaguely remember something like that. "They still want to see you about it, get your testimony." He paused, almost delicately, for a moment or two. "Is that, um – OK, with you?"

"Yeah…" Alex nodded again, but kept his eyes on his mostly-empty plate. "Yeah, that's fine." He paused, prodding idly at a piece of chicken on his plate. "So, um – when would I be going up?"

"Well, because you couldn't go last Saturday, and you've got your physio this Saturday, Command's agreed to let you give your testimony this Sunday. I figured, we could catch the train from Euston Sunday morning, and be there for nine, or something like that. Sound alright?"

"Yeah, sounds fine." Alex nodded, finally placing his fork neatly next to his knife, and looking at Wolf's empty plate. "You done?"

"I'll get it." His guardian grabbed the two plates, scraped the leftovers off into the bin, and dunked them both into the sink. "D'you want anything else?"

"I'll have an apple." Alex told him, absently, and Wolf lobbed one at his head from the bowl of fruit Alex had put pointedly on the side-counter a couple of weeks ago. Alex caught it with a glare, to which his guardian responded with a wholly unrepentant smile.

The whole scene was almost domestic, which, Alex decided, took their relationship to new and exciting levels of weird.

"So, this testimony." He started, awkwardly. "What will I have to, y'know – do?"

Wolf shrugged, biting into his own apple. "Nothing much." He said, rather indistinctly round a mouthful of fruit. Swallowing, he continued, "It won't be any more taxing than being debriefed. They've already got our testimonies, as well, so yours is just so they can dot the i's and cross the t's. They're not going to be trying to catch you out, don't worry about it."

"Yeah." Alex nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stalk of his apple. "Yeah. It's just…" he paused, thinking it through before saying anything out loud in front of Wolf. "Bear… he's part of their – _your _– organisation. They're not going to want to discredit him just for me…"

"I thought we dealt with this." Wolf muttered, frowning down at his apple for a moment and carefully avoiding eye-contact with his ward. Finally, he shrugged, and started, slowly, "Look, Cub… there's only one thing more dangerous than a highly-trained guy with violent tendencies, and that's a highly-trained guy with violent tendencies running around in a war zone with some of his countries most destructive weapons at his disposal, you know? If anything, they're going to be grateful you found it out for them. They're not gonna be thrilled about the _way_ you found it out, but they're not going to be getting angry that you dared to get the shit kicked out of you by one of their soldiers and they have to find a replacement."

"I guess." Alex agreed, taking a rather unwilling bite of his apple. It didn't look as appetising as a couple of seconds ago.

Wolf shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Alex knew that, given the choice between having this conversation and having his nails pulled out one by one with no anaesthesia, the man would take the nail-pulling without a second thought. "Cub, you've read the papers over the past year or so, you know about the whole thing with the soldiers and the Iraqi hostages they tortured. Imagine how much worse that'd be if it was some kids. Bear obviously had a thing about kids – something twisted in his head. Basically, we can't afford to have a guy around who's that kind of dangerous, you understand?"

That was a reason Alex could accept. "Yeah." He nodded, and Wolf let it go with an expression of naked relief on his face. Alex almost cracked a smile on seeing it.

* * *

The next morning, Friday, Alex suffered through double Maths with Robinson giving him sympathetic looks and particularly easy questions, telling him that he shouldn't worry too much about his homework if 'other factors were making things difficult for him'. He was almost relieved to escape the classroom in favour of his next class of the day, Spanish.

To his horror, though, his Spanish teacher gave him exactly the same attitude, and the same continued after break, in History and English. By the time their lunch break came round, he was ready to kill someone. MI6 would probably smooth the whole thing over, anyway, and Mr. Robinson's neck was looking _so_ tempting at the moment…

"They think your guardian's _beating_ you?" Tom asked, wide-eyed and incredulous when Alex gave him a potted version of the whole thing that lunch break. "_That's_ what you were talking about when you were going on about 'living arrangements' yesterday?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, taking a bite of his wholly uninspiring peanut-butter sandwich. Wolf had made a half-hearted attempt at making his lunch that morning, since Alex had overslept, and he'd ended up with a pathetic-looking sandwich and half a carrot. It really wasn't doing much to improve his mood. "And they're insisting he come in and talk to them."

"So, remind me, how did you get the bruises?"

He shrugged. "Friend of Wolf's. Well, colleague. He, er… didn't like kids."

"And he's going to prison, right?"

"He will do. Eventually."

Tom frowned. "Why 'eventually'?"

"They've got to catch him first." Alex told him, and gave up on his peanut butter sandwich, moving on to the carrot.

"Oh, you do meet the most exciting people, don't you, Al…"

* * *

Double Chemistry that afternoon almost saw Alex try to blow up his science schools for the second time after the sixth time his teacher asked him whether he felt 'confident enough in himself' to do the practical. He couldn't help but fume inwardly over why all the teachers couldn't just get over it and get on with their jobs. He was preparing for his GCSEs, surely the last thing they should be doing was encouraging him not to work – especially given his track record!

In Alex's considered opinion, the entire situation sucked.

He managed to avoid being called in to Mr. Bray's office again that day after school, making good his escape by practically dragging Tom out of the school playground and onto the Tube. They'd decided it would be simpler for Tom just to come straight back to Wolf's after school – since Alex had forgotten to ask his guardian last night about Tom coming over, and had had no time to do it this morning, he figured it would be a better idea to ask before the man went out with Gloria rather than wait and inform him after the fact.

Wolf didn't seem like the sort of man who'd respond well to that sort of tactic.

By the time Wolf got back at five thirty, Alex and Tom had been back for just under an hour and half, but neither of them had dared to do anything more than sit in the kitchen and drink tea. Tom was still wary about being in the home of a 'real live SAS soldier', and Alex didn't want to get comfortable only for Wolf to chuck his friend out. Not to mention the last thing he wanted to do was make Wolf feel like he was taking him for granted. Not now.

Wolf gave him a quick 'greeting' grunt as he walked into the kitchen, and didn't even mention Tom's presence – though Alex noticed that his friend was in danger of becoming a little starry-eyed again at meeting what Alex was sure the other boy thought of as a bona fide hero. Given that this was Wolf, though, no comment was as good as consent, so Alex figured they were good to go.

He asked Tom to go to his room, telling him he was just going to wash out their used mugs and he'd be there in a second, and raised one eyebrow at Wolf when his friend had left the kitchen. Wolf shrugged.

"It's fine, Cub. I can't exactly order that you never see anyone, can I?"

"No, it's just, you said, at the beginning-"

Wolf shifted a little, and looked away, down at the mug of coffee he was cradling in his hands for warmth as he leant against the kitchen counter. "Yeah. A lot of what I said then was bollocks, OK?" he said, gruffly, and Alex knew that was as close to an apology as he'd get, and nodded, a little uncomfortably. "You might want to warn your friend, though." Wolf told him, after a slight pause, during which Alex put their mugs into the dishwasher. "The rest of the unit found out that I was going out and thought they'd come round to keep you company."

Alex stared at him sickly. "Oh god."

* * *

Tom seemed on the verge of having a full-on hero-worshipping attack on hearing that an entire SAS unit was coming round that night, and that he was really going to get to meet them, and Alex could only hope that K-unit decided to be gentle with his friend. Having been on the receiving end of one too many of Eagle's too-incisive comments, he could only imagine how harsh such a comment would seem to a teenager whose parents were going through a messy divorce.

The whole thing could get nasty very easily, and what was supposed to have been a relaxing Friday night with a friend was fast turning into a diplomatic mission. Inwardly, listening to Tom's determinedly light chatter, Alex sighed. It would have been nice to catch a break, for once.

Wolf forced himself into a suit, and Alex smothered a grin. Had Tom not been there, he might have made some comment about the whole situation, something about how Gloria could get him into a suit when even MI6 couldn't manage it – but he refrained. Wolf wouldn't thank him for it, after all.

His guardian was just on the point of leaving when the rest of K-Unit arrived, and gave them some hurried orders by way of greeting – "don't burn the place down, don't beat Cub up, try not to use up too much electricity" – and ran for the door.

K-Unit watched him go in slightly-bemused silence. "I swear, that girlfriend of his scares him more than Iraqi insurgents." Eagle said, after a pause.

"I can understand that." Alex muttered, and gave the man a quick, awkward grin when he looked across at him. Alex had been watching the entire scene from the doorway of the kitchen, and Eagle now grinned at him in delight.

"Cub!" He crowed, cheerfully. "How are you?"

Alex took a hasty step backwards. "I'm just fine, thank you." he said, quickly.

"You cooking tonight?" Fox interjected hopefully, and Alex crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at them.

"You only love me for my cooking." He informed them, and Snake chuckled.

"No, we don't love you at all, Cub." Eagle told him, kindly. "We _put up_ with you for your cooking."

"Has anyone ever told you that you _suck_ in this kind of situation?" Fox asked, elbowing his team-mate hard. "Now we'll _never_ get dinner out of him."

Alex almost laughed at the whole thing, but stopped, remembering Tom in the kitchen. "Um – my friend's here." He said, then winced. He'd meant to be a little less blunt than that. "He's… just in the kitchen."

Eagle and Fox stopped their half-hearted by-play in favour of raising an eyebrow each, inquisitively. Snake nodded, slowly. "You want us to play nice?" he asked, quietly, and Alex nodded.

"Well, you'd better leave now, Neal." Fox muttered, and received a quick slap upside the head.

"What's his name?"

"Come through and I'll introduce you…"

* * *

The introduction went off about as well as Alex could reasonably expected – Tom, thankfully, managed to tone down the dewy-eyed hero-worshipping, and acted relatively normally around the rest of K-Unit; apparently, that particular attitude was confined to Wolf only, however weird that might be – and K-Unit accepted his friend with equanimity, if not with interest. Surprisingly, Fox was the best with the other boy, drawing him into conversation and at least seeming interested in the answers he was getting; Alex put it down to the nephews Eagle had mentioned earlier that week. As far as he could tell, the questions were innocuous enough, and after listening in for a few seconds, he mentally slapped himself for being silly and paranoid, and turned away.

"So? Food?" Eagle asked, hopefully.

Alex considered it for a moment or two, then shook his head, firmly. If he cooked, he'd have to give Eagle something to do before the man broke something – whilst he knew from experience that the man was frighteningly efficient when on-duty and in what Alex privately termed 'mission-focus', he also knew that Eagle could be frighteningly dim when off-duty. All-in-all, it just wasn't worth it. The image of Eagle trying to cook was the stuff of nightmares. "We'll get a couple of pizzas, or something." He said, firmly, and Eagle sighed.

"Aw, _man_. And I was so looking forward to some home-cooking."

"You want home-cooking, go to your grandmother." Alex sniped back. "What do I look like, a soup kitchen?"

Eagle tried to make with the puppy-eyes. "My gran's dead, Cub." He said, softly.

Alex shrugged, knowing that Eagle was putting it on – the man would never have parted with such personal information if it was true. Not to him, at least. "And, with you as a grandson, it probably came as a relief." He returned, with a shrug. "Margarita or pepperoni?"

Eagle grinned. "You are one _mean_ kid, has anyone ever told you that?"

Alex simply shrugged. "Well, we've all got to play to our strengths." He pointed out, calmly, and turned away. "Maybe margarita _and_ pepperoni." He mused, and Eagle heaved a put-upon sigh.

"Well, if we're not getting any of the good stuff out of you, the least you can do is order a decent pizza. C'mon, it's gotta be Hawaiian or nothing."

"Tom hates Hawaiian." Alex returned, flatly.

"He can have the other pizza." Eagle shrugged.

"Fine. Phone?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, sat in the sitting room with two pizzas and the television on, Alex was going through what he was absolutely sure was the most uncomfortable night of his life. Had it been just him and Tom, everything would have been fine; if it had just been him and the rest of K-Unit, everything would have been equally fine. A mix of the two was apparently fatal.

Fox had long since run out of questions to ask, and Tom was too embarrassed, or too nervous, to ask any back himself. Alex himself found himself asking questions which were as innocuous as possible, just to keep some sort of conversation going; Snake was particularly good at bouncing his questions back, so they ended up with some kind of a conversation going. In desperation, Alex started in on football teams, and found, to his relief, that that was a subject on which everyone had an opinion. He relaxed for a few minutes, while Eagle and Tom discussed the relative value of playing Peter Crouch – whoever _that_ was – in Liverpool games, and whether Fernando Torres was really a 'good buy' or not. Alex had once been a passionate supporter of Chelsea, but with the death of his uncle and everything with MI6, that had fallen by the wayside. For the moment, he was content just to listen to everyone else talk.

It was odd, having these two very different sides of his life meet like this, and he wasn't entirely sure that he liked it. Tom was the friend who managed to bridge the gap for him, just a little, but it was strange enough for K-Unit to be helping with his homework and for him to be bringing his school problems home to Wolf without having a meal juggling his friend and his – well, not colleagues, exactly, but… people from 'work'. It didn't help that the only other time he'd seen K-Unit around children was at the Brecon Beacons when they'd been so unpleasant to him; he didn't feel he could be faulted for feeling nervous about their reaction to Tom.

It was true that their attitude to Tom was subtly different to their attitude to him, but he couldn't pinpoint in what way it was different, so he brushed that aside for the moment. The football conversation had lagged, and someone had to start up another topic.

* * *

Tom left about an hour later, and Alex got up to see him go.

"I'm really sorry about that." He said, awkwardly, in the hallway. "I didn't know they were going to be here."

Tom shook his head with a small smile. "It's not your fault, I know you weren't expecting them. You should have seen the look on your face half the time, though! What did you think they were going to do, eat me?"

"You have no idea." Alex muttered, and Tom chuckled.

"Fair enough. Look, I'll see you tomorrow, OK? I think Ben, Nat and I were going to head over to the park, kick a football around, you fancy meeting up?"

Alex gave him a lopsided grin. "Sure. Sounds good – give me a ring before you head out. Green Park, right?"

"'Course." He grinned. "See you tomorrow, Al."

Alex headed back to the sitting room after Tom had left, where the rest of K-Unit were pretending to be engrossed in the ten o'clock news. Eagle gave him a quick, awkward grin and said, quietly,

"Sorry 'bout that, Cub. We, er… we didn't mean to screw anything up."

"You didn't." he shrugged. "What would you have screwed up?"

"Well, we didn't know you'd invited anyone over, or we wouldn't have come." Fox said, a little awkwardly. "It's always a bit weird, having civilians meet – people like us."

Alex quirked a rather ironical smile at the idea of not being a civilian when Snake chipped in.

"Not to mention none of us are that great with kids. Not kids we don't know, anyway." He said, quietly. "And being around you all this time – it's easy to forget that you're not…" he paused. "After being round you, it's too easy to forget that not all kids are like you." he said, finally.

"_And_ we didn't know what we could and couldn't mention in front of him." Fox frowned. "I mean, how many of your friends even know that you do – what you do?"

"Just Tom." Alex admitted. "I mean, it's not like I can go round telling everyone, you know?"

"Yeah – guess not."

They spent the rest of the night watching the late-night re-runs of 'Have I Got News For You', and Alex carefully stored the lesson away. The two sides of his life should, if possible, never mix again.

* * *

Saturday saw Alex in the kitchen at eight-thirty, calmly eating a bowl of cereal, only to be joined by a severely pissed-off Wolf a few minutes later.

"Hi. Good night?" he asked, politely, and Wolf responded with an unenthused grunt, pouring himself a bowl of cereal and sitting down at the table with a definite 'thud'. For a few moments, there was silence in the kitchen – then Alex said, tactfully, "Coffee?"

The grunt was a little more positive this time.

By nine o'clock, Wolf was almost human again, and volunteered a little – a very little – about his night with Gloria, which had apparently been less than successful.

"She just kept talking about her job." He shrugged, holding the coffee carefully in one hand as though it was some kind of sacred object; Alex had used the biggest mug he could find, but had made sure there was still water in the kettle for when his guardian wanted more.

"What does she do?"

"She's a hotel manager." Wolf told him, briefly, taking a deep swig of coffee whilst Alex tried to imagine Gloria in the business of looking after people's happiness and well-being, which proved to be next to impossible. "Just got promoted within the chain she works for – something about becoming an administrator?" he shrugged. "There's only so much you can say about it, you know?"

Alex ruthlessly smothered his own grin. "Yeah."

"It wasn't like I could just leave her there." He pointed out, rather listlessly, taking another long sip. "So I just tuned her out. And then she asked me some question, and I made up some bullshit answer, and… yeah. That was how the rest of the evening went."

"But she had a good time?"

"She was smiling a lot." Wolf shrugged. "So I guess she must have."

Alex opened his mouth to say something – then shut it again, firmly. "Yeah. Guess so."

There was a long pause, while Wolf drained his first mug of coffee, and started, unenthusiastically, on his Cheerios. Finally, the man broke the silence himself, saying rather awkwardly,

"I talked to MI6 about this thing with your school."

"Oh?" Alex looked up from his own cereal. "What do they suggest? Who did you talk to?"

"Deputy Head." He said, poking at his food without meeting Alex's eyes. "Mrs. Jones?"

"Yeah. Did they say anything useful?"

"No, not really. Just said they'd 'handle it' so long as I did my bit." He gave a disgusted grunt and pushed his cereal away from him like it left a nasty taste in his mouth. "From what she said, I think they're just planning to drown the whole thing in red tape, block it so that it never goes anywhere. It might be uncomfortable for a bit, but nothing's going to happen." He took a vicious sip of the re-filled mug of coffee.

"That's good, isn't it?" Alex said, uncertainly.

"Yeah. It's good." Wolf agreed, dully.

Alex debated whether or not to say it for a few moments, before he bit the bullet. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I mean, isn't that what we wanted? To make sure that this _didn't_ go anywhere? It's not like you actually did anything to me, and if MI6 didn't get involved there's no way-"

"No, that's fine." Wolf interrupted. "I mean, you living here is fine, it's not like I…" he broke off, and Alex allowed himself to feel just the slightest bit relieved that Wolf hadn't been hoping too use this as an excuse to get rid of him. But something was obviously bothering the man, and he felt this time he might get away with pushing his luck.

"What is it, then?"

"What if it was a real problem?" Wolf burst out, finally. "What if something really _was_ wrong? They just implied that…" he firmly shut his mouth, visibly calming himself down. "It didn't seem like this was a one-off thing because it fitted the situation." He said, finally, in a more controlled tone. "It seemed like – this would be a standard reaction. And if there _was_ something wrong with your home life and your school was just trying to help rather than jumping to the wrong conclusion…" he didn't need to spell it out any further, and turned back to his soggy Cheerios, once more refusing to meet Alex's eyes.

Alex supposed that the logical reaction would have been to feel worried about MI6's apparent lack of concern for his safety, but he already knew about that – had had it firmly demonstrated to him on several occasions – and he couldn't bring himself to feel particularly worried about it. His immediate reaction was a feeling of warmth; Wolf's admission, awkward and stilted though it had been, meant a lot.

He didn't need to reply to it, thankfully – both of them would have been left feeling embarrassed, so it was safer simply to nod and ignore it. But he wasn't going to forget it.

* * *

After making sure that Wolf was well-supplied with coffee, Alex headed out to Green Park, and spent a couple of hours playing a two-on-two game of football with his friends, after which they hung around the area in front of Buckingham Palace – very close to Green Park – and made fun of the tourists. For once, he was almost reluctant to leave his friends, a feeling he hadn't had since before his uncle's death; Tom was as fun as always, the football had been a laugh, and both Nat and Ben didn't seem to be about to question him on anything awkward. In fact, it was almost like they had accepted him right back into the normal swing of things, and Alex appreciated that more than he could ever put into words.

On the Tube back home, Tom had shrugged off his badly-worded question with a smile. "You've been back at school for, what – a month and a half now? That's got to be a record for you." He pointed out. "It's too long for them all just to keep ignoring you, so they're ignoring the bits that they didn't understand – y'know, why you disappeared and all that. Everyone just reckons you're back on the straight and narrow."

Alex grinned. "Right." For a few moments, at least, life felt normal – and Alex had learned to take moments like that and treasure them.

After all, he reflected, he was going to need something to hold onto in the week to come.

* * *

And there you go. Hope you liked it! Do tell... 297 people have this on alert. I promise, if I get 297 reviews for this chapter, I'll probably have an apoplexy.

D'oh! I mean, if I get 297 reviews for this chapter, I promise an update by next week. I think I'm pretty safe promising that, don't you?

Oh! A couple of people have asked me this, and I'll clear it up here. Wolf's real name is _not_, NOT, James San Luca in the books - I made it up. We never find out his name in the books. He's described as being 'dark', so I figured why not make him Hispanic? Hence the name 'James san Luca'. If anyone's wondering, it's because I watched 'Pretty Woman' before starting this story, and the actress who played 'Kit de Luca' was called something 'san Giacomo', so I just combined the names.

So, yeah. 'James san Luca' was my fanon creation, not canon. I'm delighted that people like it enough to use it, though, but it's not canon. Nor is the fact that he read Chemistry at Uni. That's also me. Sorry, guys.

-amitai


	18. Chapter 18

OH HAI. ^_^

So, lookie here, a new chapter of ILP! Which I have been holding hostage, I'm afraid, for my reel_merlin fics over on livejournal, of which I have three. I've written one completely, one half done and one - hehehe - um, not. BUT OH WELL.

New job is still shiny and new and - um - shiny, and all is going well. Except with Barclays Bank. I hate the little bastards. I've been banking with them since I was 12, and yet, they've put a fraud notice on my account. I feel like I've been in a seven year relationship with someone, and they've just accused me of cheating on them.

...OK, so I totally don't. But you get the picture. NO LOVE, BARCLAYS. NO LOVE.

Onwards, to the chapter! Beta'd as always, by the wonderful **Von**, who puts up with my whining, and my constant plans to renovate the old chapters of this story, half of which make me wince to read them. She's a star. *huggles* Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and also to everyone who PM'd me about my (now new and shiny!) bio; more on that in my actual bio. Suffice to say, I really, really appreciated the support.

DISCLAIMER: Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz/J./A 19 year old school leaver writing on the internet. Delete as appropriate.

* * *

_After making sure that Wolf was well-supplied with coffee, Alex headed out to Green Park, and spent a couple of hours playing a two-on-two game of football with his friends, after which they hung around the area in front of Buckingham Palace – very close to Green Park – and made fun of the tourists. For once, he was almost reluctant to leave his friends, a feeling he hadn't had since before his uncle's death; Tom was as fun as always, the football had been a laugh, and both Nat and Ben didn't seem to be about to question him on anything awkward. In fact, it was almost like they had accepted him right back into the normal swing of things, and Alex appreciated that more than he could ever put into words._

_On the Tube back home, Tom had shrugged off his badly-worded question with a smile. "You've been back at school for, what – a month and a half now? That's got to be a record for you." He pointed out. "It's too long for them all just to keep ignoring you, so they're ignoring the bits that they didn't understand – y'know, why you disappeared and all that. Everyone just reckons you're back on the straight and narrow."_

_Alex grinned. "Right." For a few moments, at least, life felt normal – and Alex had learned to take moments like that and treasure them._

_After all, he reflected, he was going to need something to hold onto in the week to come._

* * *

His therapy, for all Alex's injury had happened months ago now, was shockingly tiring, and when he got back from St. Dominic's and found that the rest of K-Unit had decided to visit, he felt the first real surge of annoyance with them. He'd been dismayed when they turned up last night while Tom was there, but he was too tired to moderate his reactions at the moment, and he was annoyed at having them sprung on him like this. He just didn't have the energy for this right now.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, a slight snap in his tone, and Eagle held his hands up, rather defensively.

"Easy!" he said, quickly. "Matt and I are just here to see James about something, and Dave wants to see how you're doing after the therapy."

"What d'you want?" Wolf asked, flatly, and Eagle gestured him into the kitchen, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. Alex watched them go, the first niggles of worry starting in his gut; nothing that had to be talked about privately was ever good.

But then Snake was distracting him, asking about the therapy and how he felt now, and he didn't have the time to think it over just yet.

"I'm just tired." He told Snake flatly, in response to his question, and the Scot quirked a grin at him.

"I bet. Want a drink? Coffee? Tea? Something to eat?"

"Bed?" Alex suggested, rather sarcastically, and was a little surprised when Snake nodded.

"If you like."

Fox flung an arm over Alex's shoulders. "And forsake the pleasure of our company?" he asked, dramatically, and Alex shoved his arm off with a glare.

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked, waspishly.

Snake gave his team-mate a warning look. "If you want to sleep, do. But it's only two o'clock - you won't sleep tonight."

"Someday, you're going to make someone a wonderful mother." Fox told him with a grin, and Snake turned his rarely-seen-but-strangely-impressive glare on him. "On second thoughts, I said absolutely nothing."

"Wise move." Snake agreed, dryly.

Alex watched this by-play wearily. "_This_ is why I was hoping you weren't here." He said, turning to head into the sitting room. "Keeping up with you lot takes so much_ effort_." He flopped down onto the sofa, and heard Fox say,

"A _teenager_ is having difficulty keeping up with _us_?"

Snake's response was lost as Wolf paused in the doorway from the kitchen to the sitting room. "Cub? You'd better come in here."

Alex's stomach turned, but he kept his expression blank and neutral as he followed his guardian into the kitchen. Eagle was making five cups of tea that no one would ever drink - Eagle's tea was almost as bad as Wolf's cooking - and gave Alex a smile as he came in which did nothing to assuage his nerves. Eagle_never_ smiled like that.

"Because our unit's on necessary downtime, we've got to make up a minimum of a hundred and twenty five remedial training hours for every month that we're off." Wolf explained, his voice taking on that faint tightness that told Alex that Wolf was not happy about these orders but intended to follow them anyway; it was, with the value of hindsight, the voice that he had used for most of his time at the Brecon Beacons. "MI6 arranged a grace period for us for the first month or so that you were here, to give you a chance to settle in, but that's over now, and we've got to make up the time."

Fox and Snake were stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching in silence as Alex thought that over.

"Oh." He said, quietly, after a long pause. "When do you go?"

"It's in a couple of weeks time," Wolf said, equally quiet. "We'll be gone about ten days. I'm sure the Bank will let you-"

"I'm staying here." Alex interrupted, immediately. "It's only ten days; they know I'm more than capable of managing ten days on my own."

Wolf looked uncomfortable and a little stubborn. "Well, good, but I don't like having to rely on them to look after you." He said. "They've done a pisspoor job so far."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, but what else am I going to do?" he said, calmly. "I'm just fine here."

"Obviously, I'm not going to have a mobile with me, or anything." Wolf said, oddly uncertain for such a decisive person. "You won't be able to get in touch with me if there's an emergency."

"If there's an emergency, I'm probably capable of dealing with it by myself. And I'm sure I can leave a message for you if I really have to; you can't be the only member of the who have people relying on them."

"Usually they have someone else to rely on as well." Wolf said, rather waspishly, then sighed. "This was always coming." He shrugged. "I should just be grateful to get a bit of notice for it."

Eagle put the mug of tea in front of Alex, and held his own loosely in his hands. The other three members of K-Unit grabbed their own mugs, and for a couple of moments, they sat and stood in silence, not drinking their tea. "This won't interfere with your wound recovering, right?" Alex asked, at the same time as Eagle said,

"If Cub moved, it might interfere with his therapy."

Wolf looked between them, raising an eyebrow, and answered Alex's question first. "It shouldn't do. They're not going to run the risk of it being damaged permanently; they don't want to have to pay out my pension this early. If it's bad, they'll put me on sedentary training; I might even have to do a turn as instructor for any new recruits. But they've got to make sure we stay in shape and aren't getting rusty." He turned to Eagle. "I understand that." He said, quietly, "And I think we've already decided that I'm not going to be sending him to stay anywhere." He chuckled, wryly. "Who would I send him to? I can imagine my father would be just _delighted_ to look after my non-official ward. Especially when the official story is that he's a difficult kid from care I'm looking after."

"Five minutes with Cub and he'd realise that's bollocks." Fox spoke up from the doorway, grimacing in the aftermath of a daring sip of tea.

"My father has a wonderful way with people's self-esteem." Wolf said, his expression cold and stony. "I've never seen anyone smash people's quite as fast as he manages it." He looked down at his tea, but thought better of drinking any of it. "I wouldn't let him look after any kid of mine." A brief pause, then he toasted Alex with his tea. "Even a fake one." And Alex couldn't understand the wry spin Wolf put on the words.

He did, though, manage a tiny smile. He was running through all the possible things that could happen in his head, and all the ways he could combat them; combined with his physical tiredness, he felt a lot like someone had put him through a ringer. It wasn't helped by his instinctive knowledge that MI6 were going to take full advantage of this opportunity to send him on some assignment or other; they wouldn't want their operative getting rusty any more than the SAS would want Wolf getting out of practice. The grace period was, as Wolf said, over.

Not to mention, he couldn't refuse to go. The way he saw it, MI6 had arranged this whole deal with Wolf, and were undoubtedly paying him something for looking after him; if that got called off, he had no idea where he'd go. Until Jack was back, and his life went back to the way it was, he couldn't afford to lose the protection they were giving him, however tenuous that protection was.

His mouth twitched into a wry smile. He needed more protection in his normal day-to-day life than in any life-or-death situation he could name; none of his other classmates had ever had it brought home to them quite as firmly as Alex just how difficult it was to maintain a normal life.

"...know the details for another few days." Fox was saying when Alex tuned back in to the conversation. "So we can't finalise anything."

"Sorry." Alex said, his voice husky after the brief pause. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, but his mouth felt clumsy forming the words. "Having me here makes things a bit more awkward for you." It was a straightforward statement of fact, nothing melodramatic, but from the way Wolf's eyes flickered briefly to Eagle and back again, Alex knew that, for whatever reason, his guardian had been expecting it.

"Don't be stupid." He said, quietly. "Compared with what I thought I was going to have to deal with, looking after you's a breeze."

Alex nodded, with an absent smile, his mind already elsewhere. "Wolf..." He said, slowly, "If you're not here when Brooklands is trying talk to you about the whole - abuse, thing."

All three of his team mates stared at him. "They haven't actually brought charges against you, have they?" Snake asked, softly.

"No." Wolf brushed him off. "And they're not going to."

"It's a pretty serious thing, James-"

"And his employers," Wolf nodded at Alex, "Have a vested interest in making sure he isn't taken into care. They're dealing with it." He looked at Alex. "However little I might like their methods." He added, quietly. "Look - don't worry, Cub, it'll be fine." He said, a faint undertone of awkwardness in his voice. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not a child, Wolf." Alex snapped, tiredness making him more confrontational than he would have dreamed of being otherwise; and while giving in and letting Wolf do the worrying was tempting, he wasn't going to let himself do that. It wasn't fair on Wolf, and Alex wouldn't be able to sit back and let someone else worry for him when Jack came back; it was best not to get into bad habits.

Wolf frowned. "Yes, Cub, you are."

"I think this is a conversation you should have some other time; Cub's shattered, and you'll both get more worked up about it than it deserves." Snake said, firmly. "Not to mention, you've got other, more immediate things to worry about."

"Oh god, what now?" Alex asked, dropping his head into his hands in an uncharacteristic externalisation of feeling.

Wolf's eyes were faintly worried, but he kept his voice and the rest of his expression calm. "Bear." He said, simply. "If you remember, we're going up to Credenhill for them to interview you about what happened."

"Interrogate, you mean."

"It might feel a bit like that." Eagle nodded, his voice for once devoid of humour. "The S aren't a civilian organisation, their methods tend to be a little - rough and ready."

"Just as well I'm not a civilian." Alex said, sitting up with a feline stretch. "They can't do anything worse to me than I've already had."

Another inexplicable glance between Wolf and Eagle. "No, of course not." Wolf agreed, but Alex privately thought that they didn't know enough about what had happened to him to be able to make that judgement. He kept that thought firmly to himself. "And they're on your side, too. They want to get to the bottom of all this, and they know they won't gain anything by alienating you. You do need to realise that - they will be pretty... insistent about getting answers."

"OK." Alex nodded, hoping that that would be the end of it, but Eagle obviously felt he hadn't got the message.

"Really, Cub." He said, firmly. "They want to get to the bottom of this and you're the way to do it. You've got to be prepared for them to be - well, persistent to the point of being nasty. You can't just-"

"They're not going to threaten to dissect me while I'm still alive, or to put me through a mincer if I don't tell them what they want." Alex snapped, what was left of his patience snapping like a worn thread. "I think I can deal with it."

With that, he pushed his horrible tea away, and left the kitchen.

* * *

K-Unit stayed in silence for a few moments, until Fox slipped into Alex's abandoned chair, and said,

"Well... I think that was our first teenage tantrum."

Snake's mouth twitched into a small smile. "Cub even does teenage angst better than every other teenager."

"_Live dissection_?" Wolf repeated, through gritted teeth. "He was going to be used as a _live dissection_?!"

"It could be worse." Snake pointed out.

"How? _How_, exactly, could it be worse?"

"They could have actually done it." Snake said, softly.

Wolf paused, then deflated, his jaw unclenching and suddenly looking rather tired. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

Again, it fell to Fox to break the awkward silence. "Your gran would look after him while we're off on training, wouldn't she?"

Wolf snorted, trying to disguise affection with gentle derision, and convincing absolutely no one. "I think I'd have difficult stopping her." He said.

"And Cub's a good kid." Eagle nodded. "Y'know. He's not going to get in to any trouble."

"No. Of course not." Wolf agreed.

"Unless trouble finds _him_." Snake muttered, but Fox glared at him, and Wolf pretended not to hear. He had a whole score of bridges to cross when he got to them, but he was a far way off yet. He had time.

For a moment, they sat in awkward silence, before Eagle spoke up.

"Rugby?"

"Rugby."

* * *

Alex woke about half an hour later, feeling both better and worse; the horrible, aching tiredness had gone, but he now felt better enough to feel ashamed of his earlier outburst. He was old enough - and indubitably experienced enough - to recognise when someone was only trying to help, and when they were trying to be annoying, or patronising. He should have been mature enough to respond in kind.

Which meant, of course, that he had to apologise.

Better to get it over with quickly, then, he reasoned, and padded out into the corridor leading to the hall - and from there the kitchen and sitting room - on bare feet. In the hall, he could hear the sound of the TV from the sitting room, and occasional crows of triumph from - of all people - Snake.

"Yes! There you go, you Welsh git! Take _that_!" He exclaimed, just as Alex appeared in the doorway, and turned to Alex, a flush of vicarious triumph high on his cheeks. "Cub." He grinned. "See, this -_this_," he pointed at the TV screen. "Is what makes Scotland great."

"You're still going to lose." Alex said, glancing at the TV, where Wales were playing Scotland in the Six Nations cup.

"Care to get in on the pool?" Eagle offered. "The person who loses by most tries is buying the takeaway."

Alex considered it - and with it, the men's faces. There didn't seem to be much censure in their expressions, or any at all, in fact, and he edged his way in and took a seat by Fox on the sofa. "You shouldn't eat so much takeaway, or you'll never manage your training." he said, with a smile. "If I lose, I'll cook for you."

"Please let Cub lose, please let Cub lose." Eagle chanted, with a grin, and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. "Alright then, what's your prediction?"

"Wales to win - nine to thirty eight."

"Fighting words!" Fox grinned.

Snake gave him a mock glare. "It's alright, though. Scotland and I will make him _eat them_."

* * *

Alex lost the bet quite spectacularly, just as he'd intended, and set about cooking the meal with a good grace, letting Eagle rib him for making such an unlikely bet, and content just to benefit by proxy from the happier, relaxed attitude in the flat.

Evidently, for some things, a game of rugby on TV was better therapy than any a hospital could provide.

He added some thyme and a bay leaf to the chilli con carne, and put the top on, turning to the washing up and starting that while the chilli simmered.

Wolf pulled him away from it and shoved him down at the table. "Don't be a twit, Cub." he said, sternly. "You cooked - one of these idiots can wash up."

"Why not you?" Fox protested.

"Because _I_ provided the venue." Wolf said, smugly.

"You could all come round to mine." Fox pointed out.

"We could, but the rats might eat bits of us." Eagle said. "I need my fingers."

"It's not that bad!"

"Oh, it is." Snake said, fervently, still on the high from Scotland's win, and more open and light-hearted than usual because of it.

"Well, we don't all have Cub to clean up and cook for us." Fox said, crossing his arms and fixing the room at large with a glare. "Would any of us have_dreamt_ of hanging around here before Cub made it habitable?"

Eagle chuckled. "Would James have _let_ us?"

Alex glanced back from the fridge, where he was searching for the bottle of coke they'd got last night with the pizza and never finished. "Really?" He said, surprised. "I figured you must have been round here the whole time."

Fox shook his head. "This is the most leave we've had in ages." he explained. "Most of the time we have two weeks or so off - maybe a bit more or a bit less - and we're sick of the sight of each other by the time we get it."

"But now," Snake took over, "It's six months at least, and spending all that time with civilians would be... tough. We're not used to it, you know?"

Alex's mind flashed to how difficult he found it to talk to his classmates after an assignment, and nodded.

"And we're here because James's got a rich grandmummy and has the nicest flat," Eagle said, making sure he was out of range, "And he's less likely to try to kill us if you're here."

Unable to punch his libellous team-mate, Wolf settled for pinning him with a Level Three glare. "Don't listen to them, Cub." he said, loftily. "They lie."

"And yet," Alex said, thoughtfully, "I can still see where they're coming from."

"Is there no loyalty any more?" Wolf asked the heavens, and Snake, the nearest to him, patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry." He said, kindly. "We'll get you a dog."

* * *

K-Unit didn't leave for another couple of hours, and Wolf was as good as his word at forcing the others to wash up, while he and Alex sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea fit for humans and offering increasingly autocratic instructions. Finally, Eagle chucked a wet dishcloth at Wolf in sheer frustration, and the entire thing degenerated into an all-out brawl, with washing up brushes and Fairy liquid and soap suds flying between the two teams.

Finally, sat in the wreckage of the kitchen in silence, Wolf spoke up,

"You know, you're cleaning this lot up, too."

By the time they left, the kitchen was more-or-less back to normal - perhaps a little bit 'less' than 'more', but enough to be getting on with. Alex was due to give the flat another clean in a couple of days time - it could wait till then.

Wolf, easy and relaxed, hands in pockets, turned to Alex as the door closed. "Right. I checked for train times and stations, and it'd take us at least a week to get up to Credenhill by train," Alex grinned, "So I thought we'd drive. You can mapread," He paused. "You -_can_ mapread, right?" Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "Right, yeah, of course. Sorry. So, you navigate, I'll drive."

"I could drive, if you'd like?"

"Nice try, Cub." Wolf locked the door. "They're expecting us at eleven thirty, so we need to be there by ten-thirty at least. Up at seven?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure."

"See you in the morning." he paused. "You going to be OK? The therapy didn't do any damage, did it?"

Alex thought back to the time when Wolf wouldn't have so much as dreamt of saying something like that, and couldn't quite stop himself grinning. "Yeah." he nodded. "I'm going to be fine."

* * *

"Cub, you up?!" Wolf shouted, banging on the door to his room at seven the next morning, and, yes, Alex was fairly certain he hated him. "We've got to be out of here by eight!"

With a groan, he rolled himself out of bed and thumped, feet-first, to the floor. "I'm up." He called back, and stumbled to the wardrobe, pulling out the only suit he owned with a grimace of distaste. He'd worn this suit to his uncle's funeral.

"Breakfast in twenty!"

Alex headed to the bathroom and woke himself up with a quick, cold shower. He had a feeling he was going to need to be awake and alert for today.

Twenty minutes later he arrived in the kitchen, tie and suit jacket in hand, and accepted the coffee Wolf handed him with a nod of thanks. "I'm going to need the tie, aren't I?" he said, quietly, and Wolf nodded.

"Probably a good idea." Wolf himself was in dress uniform, looking rather uncomfortable. "I don't know how much traffic there'll be, and we're going to have to find the A to Z somewhere."

"It's on the bookshelf in the hallway." Alex said, absently. "Toast?"

Wolf gave him a Look, but Alex was too distracted to interpret it. "The route shouldn't be too difficult..." He detailed it, rather absently, around his morning coffee, eating a piece of toast with the absent-minded dedication of someone who understood all about eating before a battle.

"Sounds like you hardly need me mapreading." Alex commented, once his guardian was finished, "Why d'you know the way so well, anyway? I thought it was only - y'know - disciplinary actions and so on up there."

Wolf flushed, and for a moment, Alex thought he'd made a horrible mistake asking, but then he realised that the expression on Wolf's face was one of embarrassed pride, rather than shame.

"The four of us make a good team." He said, evidently torn between modesty and embarrassement, and pride. "And we've been in the middle of some - tough placements. Sometimes, they like to have the reports in person."

"Must be nice, being acknowledged for it." Alex said, biting into his toast, and Wolf shrugged.

"That's not why I became a soldier," He said, simply.

* * *

Wolf was, Alex soon found out, the world's worst person to navigate for. He was also one of the world's worst drivers; evidently, he was too used to driving jeeps in places were there were no roads, and that made him both inconsiderate of other drivers and the Highway Code, and too likely to slam through the gears and speed. Never the most patient person, every red light was a personal affront, and every small traffic jam was put in place specifically to make them late.

Once they'd got on to the motorway, Alex carefully put the A to Z on the back seat and folded his hands in his lap. "When you drive up here with the others," he said, carefully, "Do you normally drive?"

Wolf glanced at him, then back at the road. "No, normally we take Snake's car." he said. "Why?"

"Never mind."

* * *

Credenhill was just as intimidating as Alex had expected, and looked exactly the same, as well. Wolf was greeted with a kind of insider cameraderie, while Alex was greeted and then politely ignored; the waiting room they were shown into was darkly opulent, and had evidently changed very little since the SAS became an official force after the Second World War - all studded leather sofas and green wallpaper.

Wolf stood awkwardly by the empty fireplace, and tried to look comforting, despite the fact that his face wasn't one made to express comfort.

"It's just a standard interview." He said, reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worrying."

"No, of course not." Wolf nodded. "Because you'll be fine."

Alex gave him a long look. "I think you're more worried about this than I am." Wolf had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Look, all I can do is go in tell the truth. It's up to them whether they believe it or not."

"They will." He reassured him, quickly. "Of course they will."

Before Alex had the chance to reply, he was being called through by a someone young enough to look like an intern - if the SAS had interns, that is. One last, fleeting glance at Wolf, and he was being led further into the buildings, through a series of corridors and flights of stairs which got progressively less and less opulent as they went on, until finally he was ushered into a large, bare room with an enormous set of windows looking out over a series of green fields.

Alex was slightly surprised when the young man who'd come to get him took a seat at the table; he'd assumed someone else would be interviewing him, but apparently not.

"Do take a seat, Mr - Rider." The young man said, checking his name on the notes. As Alex sat, his interviewer introduced himself. "I'm Paul Drake, part of the SAS' administrative staff." The formalities concluded, he looked back down at his notes. "So, you've accused one of our soldiers of GBH."

Alex didn't remember making any such charge, but evidently Wolf had made it for him. He did wonder why Wolf had made it in_ his_ name, rather than his own, though. "Yes," he said, simply.

"So, what's your story?" Drake asked. His tone was jocular; his expression was not. So much for him not having any trouble with them, Alex thought.

He ran through the events of the night in a blank, factual voice, keeping all hint of emotion out, sticking solely to the solid facts. Drake noted it all down religiously, and there was a pause once Alex finished speaking while Drake read it through and capped his pen.

"You've been a very detached witness." He said, coolly, and it was possible that any other teenager wouldn't have picked up on the implications of that, but Alex was far from being any other teenager. What was interesting, however, was that Drake expected him to be.

"Thank you." He said, calmly.

"Now, would you mind answering a few questions for me?"

"Would you answer one for me?" Alex asked, politely.

"What is it?"

"Well, you see..." Alex said, still scrupulously polite, "I was just wondering why you aren't recording this interview."

Drake's expression was very cold. "That is't yet standard practice for the court martial."

"Ah. Thank you."

"Very well. So, you came to know Nicholas Harker - 'Bear' - through your guardian, James san Luca?"

"Yes."

"The man Harker was replacing?"

"On a temporary basis, yes."

"I see." Drake uncapped his pen and made a quick note on his pad. "Did the two of them get on well?"

"Well enough." Alex shrugged.

"What does that mean?" Drake asked, quickly.

"It means Bear beat up James' underage ward, they weren't on fantastic terms after that, no." Alex said, keeping his voice level only be an act of will power.

"What evidence do you have of Harker's alleged assault?" Drake changed tack, quickly.

Alex frowned. "None." he said, simply. "I was the only person on the street - which is obvious, or Bear wouldn't have attacked me. But I didn't get these bruises by throwing myself repeatedly into a wall, and slightly more intensive psychological screening would probably show that Bear has a pathological issue with children, which he took out on me."

"So now, not only are you accusing one of our members of assault, you're also screening our psychological tests?" Drake demanded, abandoning all pretence of neutrality.

"If Bear's still a member of yours, why has he been suspended?" Alex returned, softly. "When was the last time he got in contact? Do you, as an organisation, have any idea where he is right now?"

Drake shifted forward towards Alex, face set in hard lines. "Criticising us is not the way to get your case heard."

"I dont' think I'm getting my case heard anyway, so I might as well tell the truth." Alex said, sarcastically.

"Try showing some respect, boy!" Drake snapped, and Alex stood, abruptly.

"I've been interrogated enough for the moment." He said, and headed for the door, trying to open it. It was locked, and out of the corner of his eye, Alex caught Drake's smug smile. Showing any skill to a potential opponent was not a good idea, but Alex wanetd out of this, and he wanted out_now_. Pulling out his wallet, he got his cash card out and slotted one corner into the lock, jiggling it firmly from side to side until he had a good grip. A careful twist, and the lock clicked open.

The smug smile slid off Drake's face as Alex opened the door. "Where do you think you're-"

"You already think I'm making it up." Alex said, quietly. "If I'm not going to get a fair trial in a military court, I'll take it to a civil one."

Drake gave him a poisonous look. "Don't be-"

"Thank you for your time." Alex said, politely, and let the door swing shut behind him.

* * *

He had MI6 to thank for his ability to remember the way back to the waiting room, because he certainly wouldn't have remembered his way through the myriad of corridors if it hadn't been for the instincts he had used while working for them. He used the long walk to calm himself down; despite being outwardly calm all the way through the 'interview', blood was pounding angrily in his head and behind his eyes, and he was _furious_. The SAS had been better to him than MI6 ever had, and to be dismissed out of hand by one of their aides made him angry in ways MI6 never had.

Possibly because it was safer for him to express this anger here, rather than with MI6, but Alex wouldn't think of it that way until he calmed down.

Wolf looked up sharply as he entered the waiting room, and stood. "Everything OK?" He asked, gruffly, and Alex shrugged, having regained a little equilibrium.

"Not especially." He said, honestly. "The interviewer was a little - biased."

"In what way, biased?" Wolf asked, frowning.

"He thinks I was lying." Alex turned to the door. "I understand that you can't just walk out," he said over on shoulder. "I'll wait in the car."

"Cub, wait." Wolf strode over. "What happened?"

A small part of Alex, he was calm and truthful enough to admit, was almost annoyed that this interviewer hadn't recognised or known about him; in this world, people often did, for better or worse, and he'd got used to it. Despite the skeptics - who treated him like a particularly stupid child until give reason to do otherwise - having MI6 status often made things easier for him, and Alex wasn't too proud to admit that he would have liked Drake to have showed a little deference to his position with them.

Still, that was a lesson to learn, Alex thought, ruefully. He couldn't complain about MI6 in one moment, then expect his reputation with them to precede him in another.

"Cub?" Wolf prompted, and Alex shook himself back into the moment, turning back to face his guardian.

"Yes. Look, it was nothing - big or important. He just obviously didn't believe a word I was saying. He'd made up his mind before I got there."

"You're sure?" Wolf said, carefully. "Sure that you're not just - over-sensitive because of... what happened?" There was a look of deep discomfort on his face, and though it hurt a little to hear Wolf doubt him, and though he might have liked to take offence, Alex knew he couldn't. Wolf _had_ be to sure. He had to be on the side of his employers unless there was obvious grounds for taking them on; Wolf had a great deal more riding on this than Alex. Even the best soldiers were dispensible past a certain point.

"I may have been." He said, slowly, thinking over the meeting carefully. "But he definitely didn't go in willing to hear what I had to say. I think..." he added, carefully. "I _think_ he may have been trying to protect the interests of the organisation. Are claims like this often hushed up?"

Wolf shrugged. "Depends what grounds they're made on. Mostly it's people who've attacked soldiers, and then turn round and claim they're the victim; faced with a sudden attack, it's difficult for us to know when to stop. The injuries we can inflict are - out of proportion." he finished delicately. "When something like that happens, normally it's best to intimidate the victim out of making any fruther charges. Mostly they're surprised when they find that it's a court martial, not a civil court, and the differences can be played up until they drop the charge."

"Like not recording the interview." Alex realised, and Wolf frowned, but nodded.

"Exactly. Sounds to me like this person wasn't properly briefed before interviewing you and assumed it was a case like that." He shrugged. "Stupid bastard was probably trying to pull that on you."

"Surely he must have know that a _fourteen year old_ wouldn't attack someone the size of _Bear_." Alex objected.

"People do stupid things when they're out for promotion." Wolf said, simply. "But this could be a big problem if it's not set right."

"Rubbish." Alex said, immediately. "They'er not going to care-"

"Like it or not, Cub, you're MI6, and this _will_ get back to them. They're going to want transcripts and the rest of it; so not recording the interview may have been a bad call, too." he paused. "Something like this could set the relationship between the organisations back years, and no one wants that."

Alex shifted, a little uncomfortably. "I doubt MI6 are going to make too much of a fuss."

Wolf looked like he wanted to argue the point, but finally just shook his head. "Look, I don't want to have to slog up here again, and I doubt you do either-"

"Not if you're driving," Alex muttered.

"So I'll try and find so-"

"Lieutenant San Luca?" They both turned to the door, where a tall, middle-aged man was standing, correctly upright in dress uniform. "And this is your ward, Alex?"

"Yes, sir." Wolf nodded, evidently deciding to err on the side of politeness.

"I am Captain Hammond; I understand from Drake that some kind of mix up has occurred."

"So it would seem." Wolf hedged.

"If Alex wouldn't mind," Hammond looked at Alex, and addressed the rest of his sentence to him, "I would like to conduct a second interview with you myself."

Alex glanced at Wolf. "If you think it would be useful." He agreed.

Hammond had evidently caught his glance, and smiled, almost patronisingly. "Of course, if you would like your guardian with you, Lieutenant san Luca is welcome to come, in an unofficial capacity."

Alex smiled back, politely. "After the events of my last interview here," he said, keeping his voice light and respectful, "I think it would be a good idea."

Hammond simply nodded. "I understand completely."

* * *

The second interview was much smoother; it was recorded, Hammond kept his attitude light and reasonable, and his attitude kept Alex calm at some of the sillier, or more intrusive questions.

Finally, Hammond stopped the tape, and nodded, slowly, finishing his writing just as Drake had, before looking up. "If you wouldn't mind looking at these statements, now, to check that they agree with what you know to have happened," he said, sliding four sheets of paper across to Alex. Wolf's distinctive scrawl covered the first, and the other three belonged to Snake, Eagle and Fox; Snake's handwriting, neat but badly formed, Eagle's, sloped and sprawling, Fox's, tiny and hardly legible. The words started to run into each other as Alex read them through, all accounts of the same few hours; Laser Quest and Bear's unreasonable dislike, the aftermath, Bear leaving early. Wolf's included the interlude after Alex got home, a factual re-telling devoid of all the comfort it had given Alex when he had lived it. Then the next day, and Bear's attitude and actions laid out for Alex fomr four different points of view. Eagle had made mention of pulling Alex aside to talk to him, but thankfully without any details; all of them had explained Alex's reasons for keeping quiet.

Alex slid them back across the table with more force than they deserved. "Yes." he nodded. "They're correct."

"Thank you." Hammond said, tapping them back into place inside the file. "As you know, 'Bear' has disappeared, and in absence of the defendant, this will never go to court martial. Should he make any kind of contact with you, we expect you to ring us," he included Wolf in his sharp glance at that, "And we will deal with it. He is listed as 'suspended pending investigation' in our records, and his leave was not extended with the rest of K-Units." He looked Alex in the eye. "Your testimony lets us build up a case against him, but it will only be of any use should he resurface. In that case, please be aware that we will be calling you for your help during any trial."

"I understand." Alex nodded.

Hammond smiled again, and shut the file, standing and holding out a hand. "I'm delighted to have met you, Alex." he shook Alex's hand, and turned to Wolf, who saluted sharply. Hammond's response salute came a few moments later, and he nodded. "Trust the wound is clearing up, san Luca."

"As well as can be expected, sir." Wolf said.

"When you get back, I suspect there'll be some remedial negotiations training in your future." Hammond said, a glimmer of a smile in his eyes.

"Probably, sir." Wolf agreed, with a long suffering sigh.

"Well, you're free to go," he said to them both. "We'll be in contact in due course."

* * *

The drive back down to London was, thankfully, a little calmer. Alex waited until they were back on the motorway before heaving a sigh of relief. "Well, thank God that's over." he said, and Wolf nodded fervently beside him.

"Yeah. I hate this uniform."

That was about as near to humour as Wolf ever got, and Alex grinned. "I hate this suit."

"Bit small for you, isn't it?" Wolf said, glancing at it critically for a moment before turning back to the road.

"Probably. But I don't often wear suits."

"Really? Not very James Bond of you." Wolf said, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided smile.

The suit Julia Rothman had provided for him - and which he had thankfully not seen since the disaster with Scorpia occurred - came to Alex's mind. "Generally, when I need a suit on assignment, a beautiful older woman provides it for me." He said, smugly, and Wolf's smile grew into a grin.

"Oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Alex nodded. "Of course, she'll generally try and kill me later, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

Wolf actually laughed at that. "I'm sure."

The silence that followed for the next few miles was comfortable, and Alex felt far lighter as he watched other cars on the motorway. Even the way Wolf occasionally dropped swear words into the quiet as the car shuddered through gear changes failed to affect his good mood. He'd never been able to joke about his assignments before, and somehow, doing so made him feel far better about them.

"So," Wolf said, finally, "This thing with your school; I'm going to ring and organise a meeting with them sometime next week."

"Is that what MI6 say you should do?"

Wolf shrugged. "They're making sure that nothing comes of it." He said, some of the relaxed look leaving his face. "But we agreed that I should deal with anything else as it comes - makes it look a bit more... realistic."

Alex nodded. "And it looks like you have less to hide if you go to them rather than making them call you in."

"Exactly." Wolf nodded. "I need to know if you've said anything that's going to look bad, though, Cub."

Alex tried to think back, but shook his head. "I didn't say anything bad." He said, carefully. "But I think the way I acted wasn't good."

"What do you mean?"

"Some of their questions made me - uncomfortable." Alex said, quietly. "And it showed."

Wolf sighed. "You've faced down threats of _live dissection_ and you let _schoolteachers_ see that their questions made you uncomfortable?"

"That's different." Alex said, but didn't know how he'd go about explaining the difference.

Thankfully Wolf just nodded. "Yes, I know."

The drive back to Wolf's was uneventful - at least, as uneventful as anything could be when Wolf was the one driving - and interspersed with occasional bursts of conversation. It was strangely comfortable, in a way the Alex of a couple of months ago would never have believed being alone with Wolf possibly could be.

The calm survived when they were back at the flat; Wolf made them a cup of tea, and went to the little desk in the sitting room to do his tax return, while Alex took over the kitchen table once again to do his homework. He was so nearly up to date now on work; just his biology coursework and his history were left to do. The tutor - if Elena was really serious about that - would help him understand the syllabus, and might even save his GCSE results from being a complete disaster, but at least he would be able to do it without his teachers breathing down his neck for work he hadn't done.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he thought of the assignment he would almost certainly get as soon as Wolf was gone for the remedial training, and sighed. Well. Maybe if he had to go, he could say it was soemthing a little more convincing than yet another illness. He was starting to fit in again, and was realising just how precious that was; he wasn't going to let it go without some sort of fight on his part.

At least the problem with Bear was over for the foreseeable future. There were still plenty of things to worry about, but - just for the moment - Alex was OK.

* * *

And there it is! Hope you enjoyed it! Do tell.

-amitai xxx


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